


The Thing with Feathers

by PixelByPixel



Series: Death Takes a Holiday [8]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And also uses her knives, And then she doesn't, Angry Lucifer, Azrael does not get eaten by the eels at this time, Azrael flies, Best Christmas Pageant Ever, Best Christmas tree ever, But not everything because then this would be over, Chloe finds out, Chloe prays, Dad doesn't answer, Dear old Dad does something nice?, Dear old dad is a manipulative bastard, Death does dishes, Ella finds out, Ella kicks butt, Favors, Gen, Is it still Deus Ex Machina if it's actually God?, Linda can't even get coffee uninterrupted, Linda explains things, Linda has good timing, Linda helps, Lucifer and Amenadiel loom, Lucifer ruins a suit, Maze speaks her mind, Minor Violence, Moody Lucifer, Or Is he?, Overuse of the elevator, Pizza math, Protective Josh, Protective Lucifer, Protective brothers, Sad Chloe, Scruffy Lucifer, Sibling Banter, Sibling Bonding, Sibling heart-to-heart, Some things are revealed, Tea is not a good substitute for coffee, Too many stupid jokes, Trixie believes, Trixie draws, Trixie goes on a trip, Trixie has no chocolate cake, Weeping Angels - Freeform, Well-timed weather, Wings, and not in the fun way, but he deserved it, little whump, or does he?, threatened violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-10-13 03:12:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 63,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10505229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixelByPixel/pseuds/PixelByPixel
Summary: A favor Azrael does for Ella leads to unexpected consequences.





	1. The Favor

**Author's Note:**

> I get that it's March, and not the time of year for a Christmas story, but the idea came to me and I went with it. Hope the timing isn't too weird.
> 
> Hat tip to Emily Dickinson for the title.

"So, I'm not trying to butt in, Lucifer, but... your sister..." Chloe paused down the hall from Ella's lab and Lucifer, perforce, stopped as well.

"Yes, what's she done now?" Lucifer smiled engagingly, his lack of concern evident.

Chloe shook her head, with a quick smile. "Nothing, and you know it. She was a sweetheart when she was over on Saturday, but she seemed a little off. Is everything okay with her?"

Lucifer's expression grew serious. "She's well enough, just a little family drama. She's had a positive development on that front recently, though, so I'm sure she'll be more chipper next time you see her. She's probably around here somewhere, actually; I asked her to meet me here."

Nodding, Chloe said, "She'd mentioned something about her brother Michael, but didn't really go into details." She hesitated a beat, then continued, "Michael is an archangel. You're, well, Lucifer -"

"The one and only," he agreed, though his eyebrows approached his hairline.

"- and Azrael is the Angel of Death."

Lucifer stared at the detective and then shook his head. His tone one of mildly offended disbelief, he said, "Well, not at present, but, what, she told you? After all that grief she's given me for telling? And you believed her, when you wouldn't believe me all those times?"

Chloe returned Lucifer's stare. "What are you talking about? I looked up the name on the internet. I was just was wondering about the sort of parents who would give their little girl a name like that."

Lucifer sighed. "Well, you've got the order wrong, and you're not even taking into account Gabriel or Raphael or the others, but I can go on at length about what kind of parents they are."

Brows lifting, Chloe asked, "You have brothers named Gabriel and Raphael, too? Besides Michael and Amenadiel? How many siblings do you have?"

"A whole host of them," Lucifer replied with a smirk.

"And only some of you are named after archangels?" Chloe shook her head, then asked after a moment, "Rae doesn't really speak Sumerian, does she? She told Trixie about Gilgamesh when she slept over that time."

Lucifer considered the question, then shook his head. "Well, not any more, Detective. Sumerian is a dead language." He added, amused, "I'm assuming that she took out the hooker at the beginning of the story, or I'm sure I would have heard about it earlier."

"Does that mean she used to... you know what, never mind." Chloe nodded, puzzled expression shading to one of amusement. "Uh, yes. Enkidu was visited by a special friend who made him very happy. Thank goodness. At least one of you can show discretion around an eight year-old."

"Boring," Lucifer said cheerfully.

Looking amused, Chloe observed, "The eleven year-old is a lot more mature than you are, sometimes."

At that moment, Ella stepped into the hallway. "Hey, guys. Lucifer, can I borrow you for a sec?"

Lucifer nodded agreeably. "Of course you can. Always happy to share my expertise."

"Well, it's not work-related, but thanks."

Lucifer beamed. "Even better," he purred.

"Um, no, not that, either," Ella replied, though not without a grin. "It's about Rae."

"What's she done now?"

With an amused headshake, Chloe said, "I'll just leave you to it." She continued down the hall as Lucifer stepped into Ella's lab.

* * *

Azrael sprawled bonelessly in a chair at the precinct and did her best to ignore her brother Raphael, who sat in the chair opposite hers, in favor of her phone. It wasn't working.

"You haven't noticed anything different?" Raphael queried, his dark eyes concerned.

Azrael lifted her gaze from her phone and regarded him steadily. "Brother. For the fifth time, no. My -" She lowered her voice. "- wings work as they ever did, in the little time I've had to test them. On my honor, if I do notice something, I'll tell you."

Raphael frowned a little. "But mortals don't have wings, and -"

Azrael interrupted him, her voice taking on an unaccustomed sharpness. "I'm. Not. A mortal, for all that I'm trapped in this body." Her expression softening, she added, "I know this is an unusual situation. I get that. And I appreciate that you're worried about me. I really can handle myself, though, okay?"

Raphael smiled, shaking his head. "Okay. Sorry. It's just hard, when you're in that body, not to think of you as..."

"A child, yes. You're not the only one." Azrael shifted in the hard seat, and then stretched her arms before her. "Just try to remember... What is it?"

Raphael had caught at her arm, his eyes gone wide. "What happened to the scar?" he demanded.

Azrael pointedly removed her arm from her brother's grasp. "You didn't do it when you gave me back my wings, if that's what's got you upset," she reassured. "Also, seriously, you need to relax. There are a ton of cops around here, and grabbing me like that didn't look good."

Raphael sat back, gave Azrael some space,though he was still a little wild-eyed. "How did it happen, then? Father told me to leave it, you know he did."

"So I've been told," Azrael agreed lightly. After giving her brother a long, measuring look, she asked, "Promise you won't overreact?"

Something about Raphael's expression suggested that he would have laughed, if he weren't so concerned. "That sentence never bodes well, coming from you. I'll do my best."

"Remember, lots of cops. Even if you don't have to deal with them, I do, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't make my life more difficult." After another assessing look, Azrael admitted, "Mom did it. I don't think she even knew what she was doing. She was healing something else."

"Mom?" Raphael echoed, then continued in a lower voice after a warning look from his sister. "How? She's in a mortal body." He looked hard at Azrael, then, asking, "What was she healing?"

Azrael's shoulders lifted in a brief shrug. "I don't know how. Dad works in mysterious ways? As for what she was healing..." She shook her head. "Not a conversation I want to have just now, in this place."

Raphael looked for a moment like he was going to argue, then shook his head. "Another time, then." He gestured toward Azrael's arm. "Can I have another look?"

Extending her arm, Azrael said dryly, "Thanks for asking first this time."

Raphael gently cupped his sister's arm in one hand, running the fingers of his other hand lightly over the spot where there had previously been a knotted scar. "Amazing," he murmured.

"One might almost say... miraculous, " Azrael said, her tone serious, but a hint of mirth in her eyes.

Raphael shook his head. "Don't even suggest that," he cautioned. "I swear, Lucifer is a bad influence on you."

Azrael grinned briefly, unrepentant. "Michael said that, too."

With another headshake, Raphael released Azrael's arm, though one finger brushed lightly against the reddened skin of her wrist. "Will you tell me what that is?"

Azrael thought about it for a moment, then shook her head, though not without a look of apology. "Sorry, but no."

Raphael chuckled quietly. "You always were independent," he observed, a note of admiration in his voice. "I'll catch you somewhere more convenient for a good conversation." He got to his feet, offering Azrael a warm smile. "I won't wake you up this time, promise."

"Thanks. I'm a growing girl - well, presumably - and I need my sleep." Azrael smiled after her brother, lifting a hand in farewell. When she had watched him for a moment, she took up her phone and chuckled at what she saw there. She made a ridiculous face and took a selfie. After a moment, she peered at her phone and laughed.

Chloe, who had been watching Azrael, approached her and asked casually, "What are you doing?"

Azrael straightened, though her manner was amused rather than guilty. "Snapchatting your daughter, actually," she replied, amending after a moment, "Unless she's got homework she's supposed to be doing, in which case I am definitely not Snapchatting your daughter."

Chloe shook her head, with a reassuring smile. "It's fine. She probably doesn't have homework."

Azrael tucked away her phone, looking amused." I've been spending far too much time on that thing," she admitted.

Chloe settled to a seat in the chair Raphael had occupied. "Who were you talking to just now?"

Azrael looked in the direction Raphael had taken. "Oh, my brother," she replied lightly. "Raphael."

"Ah, so one of the archangels," Chloe replied, with a quick smile.

Azrael froze, her expression carefully neutral. "Um."

"Kidding," Chloe said with a laugh. "Lucifer and I were just talking about your names. How funny that he'd show up just when we were talking about him. Does he live around here?"

Shaking her head Azrael relaxed, leaning back against the chair. "No. He's just visiting."

Her gaze sharpening, Chloe stepped closer, half-reaching for Azrael's arm. "What happened to your arm?"

Azrael edged back in the chair. With a quick smile, she answered, "Mazikeen." She held up her other arm, showing that it, too, was red.

"What?" Chloe demanded, clearly ready to go find Maze and demand an accounting. "What did Maze do to you?"

Poorly hiding her amusement, Azrael said, "It's nothing bad, I promise. She was showing me how to get away if someone grabs me. We've already done how to fall - I'm really glad Lucifer has a hot tub - and I'm still working on ducking." She got to her feet, extending an arm. "Here, I'll show you. Grab my arm."

Brows lifting, Chloe stood as well and took Azrael's arm in a loose grip just above the wrist. Azrael tucked in her thumb, making her hand smaller, and easily slipped her hand free. "You've got to hang on tighter than that," she chided.

"I don't want to hurt you," Chloe protested.

Azrael gave her arm a little shake. "I've been working with Mazikeen, remember? Whatever you do, I promise she's done worse."

Tipping her head in acknowledgement, Chloe gripped Azrael's arm more tightly, using both hands this time. Azrael reached past Chloe's arms with her free hand to grasp her trapped hand, then pulled sharply away. She turned the momentum of the movement into a chamber for an elbow strike at Chloe's solar plexus, which she carefully did not land.

"Nice," Chloe approved. "What would you do then, if I was somebody trying to hurt you?"

"Run," Azrael replied succinctly. "Hey, is Lucifer back, too? I was supposed to meet him here."

Chloe smiled briefly. "Getting away is always a good thing. And Lucifer's back, yeah. He's just talking with Ella."

"He's what?" Azrael protested. "That's cheating!" She started down the hall toward Ella's lab, but Lucifer appeared, looking amused. "No," she told him flatly.

Smiling, Lucifer replied, "But why not, Rae? Think of the children!" Unable to stop himself, he dissolved into laughter.

"What am I missing?" Chloe asked, smiling despite herself.

"Nothing," Azrael replied promptly. "Nothing at all."

Ella, a few steps behind Lucifer, said, "I'm just trying to to get Rae to do me a favor."

Shaking her head, Azrael said, "Favors are Lucifer's thing - you could do it, Luci!"

"No, no," Lucifer replied, still chuckling. "I'm far too old. It's for kids."

"Guys, share," Chloe urged, looking between the others.

Ella, casting a hopeful look at Azrael, said, "The big Christmas play at St. Brennan's is tomorrow night, but some of the kids who were supposed to do it have been hit with the flu. We've managed to cover everyone else, but we need one more person, and I was hoping Rae would help us out."

"What's the part?" Lucifer asked, his eyes alight with mirth. "Is it Mary? Please say it's Mary."

Azrael shook her head firmly, with a quelling look for her brother. "Definitely not. Mom would never forgive me." Ignoring the puzzled looks from Ella and Chloe, she informed Lucifer, a but dryly, "It's the angel."

Brows lifting, Lucifer asked, "Which one? I seem to recall that there were several involved..."

"Well, the Bible said there was a whole heavenly host," Ella said, "And we wouldn't have enough kids for that even if nobody was sick. We had to combine them into one."

Lucifer inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Would you excuse us for just a moment, ladies?" He took Azrael's elbow, gently steering her further down the hall.

Looking after them, Ella called, "If it helps at all, the Completely Irrelevant Baby is going to be Jesus."

"She's too old," Azrael protested over her shoulder, walking with Lucifer without complaint as he guided her around a corner. "And a girl," she added, just to Lucifer. "Why do the mortals keep getting gender wrong? And that whole heavenly host she's talking about? I kid you not, it was just me and Uri. Those shepherds completely exaggerated."

Lucifer studied his sister for a moment, still looking a bit amused. He gestured at her shirt. It read _Be not forgetful to entertain strangers_ in flowing script and the image behind the text suggested wings. "The shirt's a little on the nose, don't you think?"

With a shrug and a faint smile, Azrael replied, "Most of them won't get it. I saw it and thought... why not?"

Shaking his head, Lucifer said, "Look, you don't have to do this play thing if you'd rather not."

"You're right," Azrael agreed. "I don't have to, and I don't want to. Ready to go?"

Straightening his jacket, Lucifer queried, "But why don't you want to do it?"

Staring at Lucifer as if he'd grown a second head, Azrael asked, "Why would I? They'd dress me up in a white robe - which we never wear - and put tinsel on my head, and... fake wings, Luci. It's humiliating."

Lucifer lifted his hands in a mollifying gesture. "Okay, yes, all of that is probably true. And if it were me, I wouldn't do it."

"Great, neither would I." Azrael turned to leave, taking the opposite direction from which they had come, thus avoiding Ella.

"But," Lucifer said, catching at her arm. Azrael sighed, turning back to her brother. "But," he repeated, "if you'll remember, brother Michael encouraged participation with the mortals, rather than observation, yes?"

Azrael was silent for a long moment. She sighed. "Yes. But do you really think he meant this? And since when do you agree with Michael?"

Lucifer shrugged eloquently. "Seems right up dear old Dad's alley, don't you think? And while I don't particularly care what he thinks, you do."

There was another long pause from Azrael, this one more reflective. "Second-guessing Father's intent is pretty much impossible, but better safe than sorry, I guess. Just don't tell Gabriel, all right? He'd never let me live this down." She turned to head back down the hallway, Lucifer at her side.

Lucifer hesitated for a moment, long enough to draw a defensive look from Azrael before he reassured, "He won't hear of it from me." He added thoughtfully, "You know, you do have an alternative to the fake wings."

Azrael stopped walking. While she looked tempted, she shook her head. "Not a good idea."

"Well, why not?" Lucifer cajoled. "Your wings wouldn't have the impact that mine would - on their minds, I mean," he clarified, noting the rather sharp incline Azrael's eyebrows had taken. "Yours are lovely, but, well..."

"I'm not an archangel," Azrael supplied, with a quick smile, "for which I regularly give thanks to Dad." Lifting her shoulders briefly, she added, "I'll think about it, but probably not. I mean, how would I explain them?"

Looking amused, Lucifer suggested, "Say they're a gift from your father."

With a brief, skyward glance, Azrael continued back to Ella and Chloe, who broke off their conversation at the siblings' return. "I'll do it," she agreed, laughing when Ella enveloped her in an enthusiastic hug.

"That's great," the forensic tech said brightly. Taking her phone from a pocket, she added, "I'll text Mary Grace and Father Joe."

"On one condition," Azrael amended. She turned to Lucifer with a smile that was just a little too innocent. "You have to come."

There was a moment of silence, then Lucifer exclaimed, "You have to be joking!" just as Chloe said, "Of course he'll come."

The two stared at each other for a moment, then Chloe asked, "Lucifer, why wouldn't you come? She's your sister!"

Lucifer looked between the three females, all of whom were watching him expectantly. "The Devil doesn't go to church," he protested. "And this will combine church with small children... and Christmas!"

"What's wrong with Christmas?" Ella queried. "Christmas is the best!"

Lucifer and Azrael exchanged glances, and the latter said, "We don't really do Christmas in our family."

"But why not?" Ella asked. "I mean, Rae, I know you believe in God -"

"Lucifer does, too," Azrael muttered.

With an amused huff, Lucifer protested, "Thanks for throwing me under the bus, little sister. You used to be nice."

Azrael smiled sweetly at her brother. "And then I learned to talk." She added earnestly to Ella, "My family is just really weird. It's okay."

Ella still looked baffled at the concept of not celebrating Christmas, but she nodded, before turning to Lucifer. "Just come, okay? It'll be an hour, tops."

"An hour? For a children's play?" Lucifer groaned.

"Well, there will be some carol-singing at the end," Ella added.

Chloe offered Lucifer a sympathetic smile. "I'll go with you, okay? I mean, I don't believe in this stuff - sorry, Ella -" The tech lifted her hands in an amiable gesture of acceptance. "- but it'll be cute."

"Really?" Lucifer perked up. "Well, if you'll be there, Detective, I suppose I can cope with bad acting and an inaccurate script for one night."

When Chloe laughingly protested that it wouldn't be so bad, Azrael shook her head. "I saw part of a rehearsal on Sunday. He's not wrong. But there will probably be unintentional comedy."

Ella said cheerfully, "Well, I'll definitely be there."

"I'll bring Trixie," Chloe added. "She'll love it. Rae, are you going to ask your mom to come?"

"No." Azrael and Lucifer spoke in unison, their voices holding a near-identical fervor.

"Wow," Ella murmured. "Sometimes I forget you guys are siblings, and then you do something like that."

With a sheepish grin, Azrael said, "Sorry. But I'm sure Mom won't be able to make it. She's so busy."

Looking up from her phone, Ella said, "Mary Grace just texted and she wants you to come by the church if you can, Rae." Shooting a quick, amused glance at Lucifer, she added, "I'm heading that way, if you want a ride."

"Thanks," Azrael replied with a nod. "I'd appreciate it."

Lucifer said, a note of protest in his voice, "But we were going to go to that new Thai place."

Pulling on her jacket, Azrael suggested, "We can go another day." Seeing Lucifer's expression, she added, with a grin, "Or take Chloe. You ready, Ella?"

"Sure," Ella replied. "Just let me get my stuff."

The pair headed back down the hallway toward Ella's lab, even as Lucifer began wheedling attempt to convince Chloe to go to dinner with him.


	2. The Event

Linda, walking down one of the back hallways of St. Brennan's in search of a restroom, paused when she spotted a familiar figure. Azrael, clad in a white robe but blissfully free of a tinsel halo, stood looking up at a painting. Not turning, she observed, "He doesn't even look like that."

Linda moved to stand beside her, studying the picture of Jesus. "No?"

Azrael shook her head. "Consider the time period and the geography. He's shorter, not so pale. But at least this doesn't have him as a blond." She slanted a glance at the doctor. "No offense."

"Oh, none taken," Linda replied amiably, though she did send a look of her own at Azrael's light hair.

Catching the look, Azrael said gently, "This isn't what I look like, either, Doctor. Just the eyes. Mom thinks that Father was trying to make a point, having me look like her, but..." Her shoulders lifted in a brief shrug. "His plan is ineffable, and I'm sure I'm just a very small part."

Curious, Linda queried, "What do you look like, then?"

"Taller. Darker hair. _Older_." With a quick, vaguely suspicious look, she added, "If Lucifer said something about the eyes and wings, it's not true. Two eyes. Two wings. That's it. I don't know which one of my siblings started the rumor about twelve wings and a multitude of eyes, but that's just creepy."

Laughing, Linda reassured, "He hasn't mentioned it at all."

"Good," Azrael replied fervently. Her expression turned quizzical, then, as if Linda's presence had finally registered. "What are you doing here, by the way?"

"Oh, I met up with the Tribe for drinks last night, and Ella mentioned it," Linda replied, her smile rather intrigued. "Hearing that you were going to be an angel... well, I couldn't resist. How did Lucifer ever talk you into it?"

With a small shrug, Azrael replied, "He pointed out that it might help me curry favor with our father... not that I have ever been successful there." Tipping her head slightly, she inquired, "The Tribe?"

"Chloe, Ella, Maze, and me," Linda replied, with a smile. "We get drinks together, sing karaoke... just the one bar fight. We're there for each other."

Azrael nodded as she spoke. "Oh, yes, that sounds just great... but did you say _Maze_? So, um, Mazikeen knows about..." She gestured to the white robe.

"Oh, yes," Linda replied brightly. "She thought... what's the matter?"

Azrael had leaned against the wall, the back of her head hitting with an audible thunk. "Ow. She's never going to let me live this down." She sighed, then, a long, drawn-out sound. "She laughed, right? Of course she did. This is ridiculous."

Expression gone shrewd, Linda queried, "You care what Maze thinks?"

"No," Azrael replied quickly. "No. No, of course not. I just know she'll make fun of me, that's all. She makes fun of me even when I haven't done something ridiculous."

Linda nodded, amused. "Of course," she said, her tone making it clear that she wasn't fooled at all. A small child clad in a fluffy costume darted past, and she looked after him. "A cloud?"

"Sheep," Azrael replied with a sigh, though she did look grateful for the distraction. Raising her voice, she called, "Michael, come here, please."

After a moment, the little boy dashed back, arms outstretched. "Rae," he called gleefully.

Azrael folded her arms across her chest. "You ran away from your mom again?"

Michael beamed, a dimple appearing in each cheek. "Up, Rae!" he cajoled.

After a moment of token resistance, Azrael hefted the boy and settled him on her hip, sighing. "If I had dimples," she said seriously, "I could rule the world."

"Maybe, but would you want to?" Linda inquired, making a goofy face at Michael despite herself and then grinning when the boy squealed with laughter.

"Decidedly not," Azrael replied firmly. "That's not my path, nor do I want it to be, so my lack of dimples is probably for the best."

Azrael bounced in place, to Michael's obvious delight, and Linda observed, "You seem to be better around... how did you phrase it? Other people's offspring?"

"Well, he didn't really give me much of a choice," Azrael replied, with an amiable shrug. "I'm here fairly often, and... well, have you noticed how children... flock?"

Linda looked down the hallway as more footsteps approached, soon followed by another participant in the evening's festivities: a berobed young man of about twelve whose beard was obviously fake. Linda noted how his expression brightened when he saw Azrael, as well as Azrael's generally oblivious manner, and smiled. "Good," the boy said. "Here you are. Mary Grace and Ella are looking for you - and probably him, too," he added, with a nod to Michael. "Ella says it's time to finish getting ready."

Azrael nodded agreeably. "Oh - this is Jack; he's playing Joseph. Jack, this is Linda. She's -" Azrael took a moment to categorize Linda. Her brother's therapist and former paramour? No. " - a family friend."

Greetings were exchanged, and the three participants in the play headed off to their designated location. Jack, Linda noticed, reached for Azrael's hand as the trio moved down the hall, though he didn't complete the gesture. "That could get very interesting," she mused, before continuing on to the restroom.

* * *

Linda slipped into the pew next to Lucifer, with a small smile for his obvious discomfort. Perhaps it was Trixie's presence wedged between him and Chloe - though she was playing tic-tac-toe with her mother on the back of the church bulletin, she was leaning lightly against his leg - or maybe it was just that he was in a church. Seeing Linda, he observed dolefully, "I thought my sister liked me."

"She does," Linda replied, her smile widening.

"Then why is she doing this to me?"

Trixie drew a triumphant line through her trio of Os, then turned to Lucifer. "Because she wants you to see her be an angel," she replied, as if it was obvious.

Lucifer peered down at the little girl. "That... makes sense, actually, when you think about it. Did she tell you that?"

"No," Trixie replied, turning to draw the grid for the next game and then handing the tiny pencil to her mother. "I just know."

Leaning closer to Lucifer, Linda smiled, her eyes alight with amusement. "Did you know that your sister has an admirer?"

"She does not!" Lucifer replied, his tone both entertained and disturbed. Shading toward the latter, he asked, "Who is it?"

"The young man who is playing Joseph," Linda replied. "I ran into them in the hall."

Trixie leaned across Lucifer's lap to address Linda, to his visible and audible discontent. "Rae has a boyfriend?"

Chloe, taking pity on her partner, gently reminded Trixie, "Personal space, Monkey. Give Lucifer a little room." She did, though, look for Linda's answer with amused interest.

"No, no," Linda replied. Perhaps that was the source of Lucifer's relief, or maybe it was that Trixie had moved. "I don't think Rae knows that he's interested."

"I should hope not," Lucifer grumbled. "That's just not right."

"You know, Lucifer," Trixie said blithely, marking an O and then handing the pencil back to her mother, "You're not the boss of Rae. She can have a boyfriend if she wants one."

Lucifer stretched, trying to get comfortable in the pew, and ignored the grins from Chloe and Linda. "Well, Beatrice, from what Doctor Linda says, she doesn't want one, so the point is moot."

"Actually, baby, Lucifer is the boss of Rae, at least right now," Chloe corrected lightly.

"No, I'm not."

"No, he's not."

After speaking at the same time, Trixie and Lucifer shared a grin of their own. Then the group, along with the rest of the congregation, fell quiet as the first of the children came out to introduce the play.

* * *

In later years, nobody could quite put their finger on what was so special about this particular play. It wasn't that the children gave flawless performances; far from it, and that was part of the charm. The smaller of the two sheep had to be carried away when his part was done, as his obvious desire was to remain on stage. The baby Jesus, upon seeing the angel, let out a crow of joy that delighted the audience. In the end, they never really figured out why that year's show felt different, but those who were there remembered it for years to come.

Lucifer, however, wasn't impressed. Of course, he knew the story of his youngest half-brother's birth, for all that he had been in Hell for some time when the events occurred. Poor Linda was subjected to his mutterings, including a choice gem about Joseph's inability to make hotel reservations. The children were children, forgettable at best, though he did keep his eye on Joseph. Azrael, he noted, had chosen to wear the fake wings. _Brilliant_ , he thought. He was sure to hear about them later and his sister was right: the fake wings were atrocious, nothing like real wings for beauty or grandeur. Still, she was probably right to wear them. Even at a distance, her actual wings would have inspired comments and awkward questions.

Mercifully, the play came to an end, and the children took their bows. Lucifer applauded to be polite, and noted the enthusiasm of the detective's offspring. "Rae looked just like a real angel, didn't she?" she asked, looking up at him with a grin.

"Indeed," he replied noncommittally.

As the organ started up, he groaned, though quietly. He had forgotten about the carol-singing. It was sure to be off-key; he would be lucky if it was only in one key. Shaking his head, he squeezed past Linda and her understanding smile. His sister had made her own escape, he noted, so it was only fair that he do the same. He recognized the first song: _Angels We Have Heard On High_. If only the mortals knew who they had in their midst...

Watching Lucifer leave, Trixie whispered something to her mother, and the two slipped out as well.

On his way to the exit, Lucifer spotted a familiar figure standing at the back of the sanctuary.

"Brother," Lucifer greeted Amenadiel. "I hope you didn't miss all the fun."

Amenadiel smiled. "Maze told me about it," he replied, answering the question that Lucifer hadn't asked. "Laughing the whole time. I had to see for myself."

Wincing as one of the older women in the room hit a particularly shrill note, Lucifer cocked his head toward the door in inquiry. When Amenadiel nodded, he preceded his brother, continuing until they stood on the church steps. "Did we - or you, after I got kicked out - ever sing so that it echoed from the mountains?" he queried whimsically, lighting a cigarette and drawing deeply from it.

"Not that I recall," Amenadiel replied, stepping so he was upwind of his brother.

"Didn't think so." Lucifer looked up at the sky, addressing his father. "If that was meant to give me some grand epiphany, it didn't work."

Amenadiel made a sound halfway between a sigh and a chuckle. "Luci, why do you think that was about you?" Seeing his brother's look of incomprehension, he continued, "There were, what, a hundred people in there tonight? Maybe Azrael was supposed to reach one of them."

Lucifer took another drag on his cigarette. "But she didn't even use her real wings," he protested.

With a derisive laugh, Amenadiel queried, "Was that even an option? Thank goodness she didn't."

Lucifer exhaled a short, exasperated huff, but then a glint appeared in his eyes. "Do you know, that troglodyte who played Joseph has designs on our little sister." At Amenadiel's skeptical expression, he protested, "Doctor Linda told me. She wouldn't lie."

Amenadiel took a long moment to digest this information. Finally, he queried, a slow smile crossing his face, "Do you want to scare him off, brother, or shall I?"

Lucifer's answering smile could only be described as devilish. "Why not both of us?"

* * *

As the organ music started, Azrael slipped out of the crowd of children and out the side entrance. Resisting the urge to pull the fake wings from her back, she murmured a vague excuse to Ella about needing the bathroom, then hurried down the hall to that room. Once the door swung closed behind her, she let the fake wings fall to the floor. She knew that wearing them had been the right decision, and she had felt even more certain of that when she had seen her brother Amenadiel at the back of the sanctuary.

Still, it was with profound relief that she let her actual wings unfurl. Peering in the bathroom mirror, she started to pull out the bobby pins that held her tinsel halo in place. She listened carefully to the music, so she could be sure to tuck away her wings before the carol-singing had ended.

"Cool! Rae, why didn't you use those wings?"

Azrael had not counted on the fact that Trixie had consumed three glasses of apple juice before the play, and thus needed to be in that very room. She turned, automatically twitching her wing to keep it from catching on the chair to her right. Waiting in the doorway were Trixie, looking utterly delighted, and Chloe. The detective's face had gone pale, and her eyes were wide and shocked.

Azrael took a deep breath, trying to quell her incipient panic. _They weren't supposed to be able to see..._ "Come in, would you? And... close the door."


	3. The Revelation (No, Not THAT Revelation)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuck in the bathroom at St. Brennan's, Azrael deals with the ramifications of Chloe and Trixie's discovery.

Trixie darted past her mother and into the stall, while Chloe took a moment to collect herself before entering. She took a deep breath, shaking her head. Fake. They had to be. "Those wings are lovely," she said finally. "You should have used them for the play."

Azrael relaxed just a little, though the tension in her body was still evident. "Thank you," she replied after a moment, though she still watched for a further reaction from Chloe. "That's what Lucifer said."

Stepping closer, to get a better look at the wings, Chloe asked, "Did Lucifer get them for you?" As Trixie burst from the stall, she added automatically, "Hands, monkey."

Agreeably moving to wash her hands, Trixie replied, "They're real wings, Mommy. They moved; didn't you see?"

Azrael managed not to groan, but, just for a moment, she had a profoundly uncharitable thought about Trixie.

Shaking her head, Chloe pulled a paper towel from the dispenser and handed it to her daughter. "Of course they're not real, baby. People don't have wings. They just moved because Rae did."

Azrael cast a longing look at the door, but there was no way she could get past without putting away her wings, and doing that, of course, would make her precarious situation even worse.

Again, she had not counted on Trixie, who was her mother's daughter, especially where tenacity was concerned. "People don't have wings, but angels do," the little girl said, her voice full of confidence. She smiled brilliantly at Azrael, who shifted in place, avoiding the smaller girl's inquisitive gaze.

"Baby, you know it was just a play, right?" Chloe asked gently, eyeing her daughter with a little concern. "Rae isn't really an angel."

Trixie shook her head, insisting, "She is, Mommy! I thought so during the play, but when I saw her wings, I knew it."

Turning to Azrael, Chloe asked, "Could you help me out, here, Rae?"

"You _really_ don't want to bring me into this," Azrael said quietly, not meeting Chloe's gaze.

"Because she's an angel," Trixie insisted, with a grin for her friend. "That's so cool! Can you fly?"

Azrael responded with a weak smile.

Looking rather exasperated with both girls, Chloe said, "Trixie, angels aren't real, and of course she can't fly. Azrael, this is isn't funny! Stop playing with her and tell the truth."

Azrael closed her eyes in a silent plea for guidance. When she opened them, she was met with Trixie's hopeful expression and Chloe's irritation. There was no response from her father; of course there wasn't. "I don't think anybody thinks it's funny," she offered, with her best innocent look.

Trixie stepped close and grabbed her friend's hand. "You can tell her," she said earnestly.

Azrael took a deep breath. Was that a sign? While she wasn't asking for anything really blatant - the big signs didn't necessarily work out well, after all - something a little more specific would have been helpful. She leveled her gaze at Chloe. "Remember, you asked for this." She folded her wings, and they disappeared.

" _Cool_!" Trixie exulted, and Azrael couldn't help but smile. "See, Mommy?"

Chloe, eyes wide, stepped behind Azrael, running her hand lightly along the girl's back. "Where did they go?"

"Hey, ask before you touch," Azrael protested, twitching away from Chloe's hand. She added, with a nervous sound that was not quite a laugh, "Lucifer goes for that, but I'd rather some warning. As for where the wings go, I'm... honestly not sure. An alternate dimension, like missing socks? It's one of those questions best not thought about too hard, like whether the s or the c in scent is silent." Realizing that she was rambling, she closed her mouth firmly, waiting for the reaction.

"They can't be real," Chloe said slowly, one hand reaching for the wall, something to ground herself to reality. She was starting to sound more like she was trying to convince herself. "There have to be strings, or... something under the robe. A trick."

Azrael shook her head as she watched Chloe, almost smiling. "Your ability to keep to your beliefs is... well, it's really impressive." She shot another quick glance to Trixie, who watched the interplay intently, then nodded, committing herself. "Empirical evidence, right? That would do it? I thought I'd already provided that, but..." Azrael locked the door. When Chloe started forward in protest, she said, "It's just to keep more people from walking in, since I'm going to be in enough trouble as it is. If you want to leave, I won't try to stop you."

Chloe looked like she wanted to do just that, but Trixie urged, "Just let her show you, Mommy."

Azrael took a deep breath, then tugged on the tie to her robe, letting the costume fall to the ground. Under it, she wore a pair of leggings and a camisole. She turned her back to Chloe and, after checking for space, let her wings unfold. "Look as much as you like. No strings, I swear."

Chloe inhaled sharply. She moved closer to Azrael, carefully studying the feathers, the arching curve of the wings, the place where her wings met the rest of her body. "Lucifer," she managed. "The scars on his back..."

Azrael looked over her shoulder, trying to see Chloe through her feathers. "I get why he did it, mostly; he always did like grand gestures. But I still can't believe he had Mazikeen cut them off."

Chloe took in another sharp breath, and backed away from Azrael, though not so much that she ended up against the wall. She sank into the chair and then looked up at Azrael. "You have... wings." Trixie moved to stand near her mother, all but vibrating in her delight.

Azrael nodded, exhaling a shaky breath. "Yeah. You, uh, weren't supposed to be able to see them, though."

Chloe repeated, still looking rather stunned, "You have wings. Oh, my God."

" _No_ ," Azrael replied quickly, with a nervous grimace. "Only one of his less-favored offspring."

Chloe took a deep, trembling breath, but then her eyes widened as the first of many realizations struck. She struggled to her feet, placing herself between Azrael and Trixie. "On the internet, it said that Azrael was the Angel of-" She cut off her words, with a glance toward her daughter.

Azrael raised her hands slightly, palms toward Chloe, intending to negate any sense of threat. "I was," she agreed, her voice at the same volume as Chloe's. "Before I came to stay with my brother. Just now, I'm not sure who has the job, but it's not me. And even when I was, I never actually... I just made sure everyone ended up where they should." A note of entreaty in her voice she added, "I mean no harm to you and Trixie, I swear."

"Mommy, Rae wouldn't hurt us," Trixie said, sounding a little confused. "She's an _angel_! Angels are good."

"I wouldn't," Azrael concurred, with a quick smile for Trixie, though she did not confirm the inherent goodness of angels. Her smile disappeared, though, when she turned back to Chloe.

"And Lucifer... and Maze... oh, my God." Chloe rested a shaking hand on the wall.

With a jittery look skyward, Azrael said lightly, "If you wouldn't mind, I'd appreciate it if you would stop calling on him." As Chloe turned incomprehending eyes on her, Azrael added, "It's not like he's Beetlejuice and saying his name three times will bring him here, but I'd _really_ rather not attract my father's attention just now. As for Lucifer and Mazikeen, they're the same people they always were. Just... not people."

As Azrael's words registered, Chloe swallowed convulsively and echoed, "Your father."

Azrael widened her eyes meaningfully. "Yeah. Him."

"So Lucifer's daddy issues..." Chloe sat down heavily in the chair once more.

Azrael nodded grimly. "Not your usual, garden-variety sort of thing, no." She paused a beat. "Well, no, there was a garden," she amended, "but that was ages ago."

"The garden was real?" Chloe queried, drawing Trixie a little closer. "And the apple and... everything?"

"'Everything' is overstating things," Azrael replied, shaking her head. "I mean... some of those stories that got written down were third-hand accounts at best, and there's some seriously weird stuff in the Bible. But the garden? Yes. That was real. I think Lucifer got a bad rap for that one, though, if it's any consolation."

Chloe was silent for a long moment, shaking her head rather numbly. "I... We have to go." Still looking rather shell-shocked, Chloe got up and moved toward the door. "Come on, Monkey."

Trixie nodded to her mother, but flung herself at Azrael, locking her arms around her friend's waist. After a moment Azrael hugged Trixie in return, one wing curling around the little girl.

"How did you know?" Azrael asked, her voice very quiet.

Trixie frowned, groping for knowledge that was just out of reach. "I don't know," she admitted. "I just did." Eyes wide with anticipation, she asked, "So _can_ you fly?" Azrael lowered her head and whispered, "Yes. Best not to mention it to anyone, though." At least somebody was happy about this development.

Trixie nodded." They wouldn't believe me, anyway." Her expression going plaintive, she added, "Are you still coming over tomorrow?"

"Trixie," Chloe urged, a note of anxiety in her voice. Trixie hesitated.

"We'll see," Azrael replied gently, pulling her wing back. "Go to your mother, now."

Nodding, Trixie pulled away, her eyes wide with wonder.

Chloe unlocked the door, and the pair disappeared down the hallway.

The door closed. Azrael pulled on the robe once more and took a moment to indulge in some blistering profanity; the thought of what she had to do next terrified her enough that she felt she deserved the release. Still, she avoided blasphemy, sticking to scatological and copulatory oaths; she was upset, but not stupid. Opening the bathroom door, abandoning the fake wings on the floor, she found herself face to face with one of the older members of the congregation. Of course. Clearly the woman had heard at least some of her words, as she looked shocked and rather disapproving.

"Excuse me, Mrs. McElroy," Azrael said sweetly, summoning a smile as she brushed past the woman.

Mrs. McElroy peered into the bathroom, clearly expecting to see another source for the foul language. "You forgot your wings!" she called, but Azrael was already around the corner.

Azrael threaded her way through the post-play crowd in search of her brother, but she hadn't gotten far before she found herself being pulled into one of the small rooms off the hall. How could Lucifer have found out already? "It wasn't my fault," she protested, but it was Michael's hand gripping her wrist, not Lucifer's. She twisted away from the tall angel, slipping out of his grasp using one of Maze's milder tricks and eliciting an annoyed look from her brother. "What are you _doing_?" she hissed.

"Guilty conscience?" Michael queried, brows lifting. "What have you been up to?"

Azrael tried to leave, but Michael pushed the door closed, blocking her exit. "I have to go," she protested urgently. "Michael, stop."

Michael's expectant smile caught her attention. "You could go," he said, "but I think you'd regret it if you did."

Regarding her brother with narrowed eyes, Azrael folded her arms over her chest. "Make it quick," she said, her voice clipped and tense.

Looking honestly pleased for her, Michael said, "Father says that you can come home now. Just got word to bring you back." When Azrael fumbled for a chair, her expression stunned, he added, "This is not the response I was expecting, sister. I don't know, maybe a _thanks, Michael,_ something like that?"

"Thanks, Michael," Azrael said numbly. "But... now? You mean... _right_ _now_?"

"Yes, _right now,_ " Michael replied, a touch of impatience shading his tone. "You've been nagging me about this; I thought you'd jump at the chance. Do you have something better to do?"

"No, I..." Azrael raked a hand through her hair, sending the partially-attached tinsel into disarray and finding that the symbolism of her off-kilter halo suited her. "Can you give me a little time?"

Michael strode across the small room to look out the window, then back over his shoulder at his sister. "Father said now," he said, his brows lowering in concern. "He was very specific."

Azrael leaned back in her chair, eyes closing for a moment. "Of course he was," she whispered. Nausea churning in her stomach at the enormity of what she was doing, Azrael tipped her head back, staring at the ceiling. For once, she wasn't doing this to address her father, but rather to avoid her brother's reaction. She took a deep breath. "Michael, I can't go."

Silence.

When Michael didn't speak, Azrael looked over to see her brother staring at her, eyes wide with shock. "Why not?" he demanded finally. "Little sister, this offer may not come again. Think about what you're saying."

"I can't," Azrael repeated softly. "I... Chloe, Lucifer's mortal partner-"

"I know who she is," Michael interrupted.

That caught Azrael's attention, and she regarded her brother with suspicion. No time for that now, though. "She saw my wings," she admitted. "She and her daughter."

Michael rocked back on his feet, his expression somewhere between anger and shock. "You _showed_ them? Azrael, you know that's forbidden!"

Getting to her feet, Azrael shook her head. "I did not show them," she insisted in a fierce whisper. "They _saw_ , when they should not have been able to see. I have to go, Michael. I have to warn Lucifer that Chloe knows."

"Lucifer can handle everything here. He has these mortals eating out of his hands." Michael's lip curled in disgust. "And other places."

Even in her distress, Azrael paused to stare at her brother. "I do not want to know how you know that."

Michael looked away, clearly not inclined to answer, then back to his sister. "You're really staying?" When Azrael nodded, her face too calm but her hands trembling, he stepped forward and rested his hands on her shoulders. Azrael twitched, but did not move away. "I think you're making a mistake," he said slowly, "but I know better than to try and talk you out of something when you've set your mind to it." He looked for a moment like he was going to hug her, but something about her brittle manner forbade such intimacy, so he rather awkwardly patted one shoulder instead. "When you're ready to come home, call for me," he said. "I don't know that Father will still be willing to allow it, but I can ask."

Azrael nodded, her jaw working for a moment before she smoothed her expression. "Thank you, brother."

She turned and exited, closing the door on an empty room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! I've now caught up with the postings on Fanfiction.net, and so now will be posting new stuff after I have actually finished writing it. Unfortunately, work is about to get very intense for at least one week (getting two weeks' worth done in one so I can go to a conference, thus turning my brain to the consistency of Dan's pudding) or possibly two weeks (attending said conference, which will wear out my introverted self). Adding in some familial obligations over the weekend doesn't help, but I'll do my best to get out the next chapter as soon as I can.


	4. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mind still blown by the revelation that Azrael has actual wings, Chloe encounters Linda; Trixie and Maze have fun with knives.

Firmly gripping Trixie's hand, Chloe made her way through the church. Church. Was she going to have to start going to church? She had so many questions roiling in her brain that she was having a hard time focusing on just one. She detoured around a priest - looked like a nice enough guy, but he was honestly not the person she wanted to talk to just now - and in doing so nearly ran into Linda.

"Hey, there," Linda said brightly. "I was wondering where everyone went." Catching sight of Chloe's strained expression, she guided the detective and Trixie through the front door of the church, out of the crush of the crowd and into the cooler air outside. "What happened?" she asked, her expression concerned.

Trixie had gone along quietly with her mother, despite having seen another child come down the hall with what she was fairly certain was a chocolate cupcake, but could contain her excitement no longer. Breaking away from her mother, she asked gleefully, though at a relatively low volume, "Doctor Linda, did you know that Rae can fly?"

"Really?" Linda replied after the briefest of pauses and a darted glance to Chloe, almost sounding like she was humoring Trixie. "I didn't know that. How wonderful for her. That sounds like a lot of fun."

Chloe regarded Linda through narrowed eyes. She had been watching the therapist, and had noticed her reaction, slight as it was. "You _know_ ," she breathed.

" _You_ know?" Linda gasped. "Chloe, when? How did you find out?"

"Just now," Chloe replied, still sounding a little stunned.

Linda exhaled a soft sound of surprise. "Okay, let's go back to your place," she said reassuringly. "Are you okay to drive?"

Chloe took a moment to consider her answer. "Yes," she said finally. "Yes, I'll be okay. Thanks, Linda."

* * *

 

Not much later, Chloe let Linda into her place. "The Christmas decorations seem... a little surreal, in light of all this," she admitted, indicating the tree and the stockings - including, at Trixie's insistence, one for Maze. Initially skeptical, the demon had acquiesced to the stocking when she'd learned that presents would be involved. Chloe hadn't commented when the red, fluffy stocking she had purchased had been replaced with a black leather one. Maze hadn't commented when Trixie had written MAZE on the stocking in silver puffy paint. Compromise.

"Right?" Linda agreed, as the pair moved to the couch. She hadn't realized how much she needed someone to confide in about their bizarre situation. Fortunately, she had discussed it all with Maze, and so wouldn't be breaching confidentiality. "I put up my tree last week and kind of had a moment." Looking over at Chloe, she added, "How's Trixie handling it?"

Chloe shook her head, her smile fond but a little disbelieving. "She thinks it's the best thing ever. I'm pretty sure I managed to convince her that asking Rae to come to school for show-and-tell was a bad idea. She's upstairs now."

"Ah, the resilience of the young," Linda observed, with a smile of her own. "And how are you? I have to ask... how did you find out?"

Chloe leaned back against the couch, her eyes closing. "I don't know, Linda. This is huge." She did not open her eyes as she continued speaking. "I found out because of the apple juice."

When Chloe didn't seem to be forthcoming with more information, Linda prompted, "Was there something... special about the juice? I mean, I've heard of holy water..."

"What? No." Chloe almost smiled. "It's just that Trixie drank so much of it. I was sure she wouldn't make it through the play, but she insisted on watching Rae. We slipped out during the carol-singing, and when we got to the bathroom, Rae was there. And she had _wings_." She opened her eyes and turned to Linda. "Actual wings. Not the ones from the play."

"Oh," Linda breathed, one hand lifting to her mouth for a moment. "Oh, she got her wings back. She must be so happy."

Looking puzzled, Chloe said, "Did she not always have wings? And... how is she a child, Linda?"

Shaking her head, Linda couldn't help but smile. "No, the wings are new, apparently. Well, not _new_ new. She had them before she came to stay with Lucifer, but not when she got here. I'm not really sure why. As for how she's a child, well, she's not. She told me her father sent her here to learn humility and I suppose that being in a child's body is a quicker way to accomplish that."

"Her father," Chloe echoed. "I mean, I never believed in God. This feels so weird. I mean... he's real, right? He's Lucifer and Rae's father. Dear old Dad," she added, in a not particularly accurate mimicry of Lucifer's accent. "But it still doesn't feel real."

"Of course it doesn't," Linda replied gently. "Chloe, you just found out about all this. It's a little to take in."

Shaking her head, Chloe exhaled a soft, disbelieving breath. "This... guy that I've been thinking was a awful parent... is God. _The_ God."

"And look at you," Linda encouraged. "Criticizing him, but not struck by lightning or anything." When Chloe turned to stare at her, Linda asked, "Too soon? Sorry." After a thoughtful pause, she added, "I keep thinking about that - what Lucifer has told us about his father doesn't really match up with how I've always thought about God."

Chloe nodded, clearly groping for words." I thought that God was supposed to be... nice. Or at least not a jerk. But the way he's treated Lucifer and Rae... "

Shifting back on the couch, Linda said, "So think about something your mother did that annoyed you." She knew Chloe well enough that she didn't have to ask if there was such an instance, and the detective soon made a small, impolite noise. "Would she describe that event the same way you would?" Seeing Chloe's eyebrows lift thoughtfully, Linda nodded. "They may be celestial beings, but they're also a family - and a pretty dysfunctional one, from the sounds of it. Not that I think Rae's lying, and I'm sure Lucifer isn't, but their father may have a different take on all this."

"Their father... God." With a slightly hysterical laugh, Chloe added, "Imagine that family therapy session."

"I don't have to," Linda replied, her brows arching meaningfully. "I mean, their father obviously hasn't shown up, not even their mother, but you would not believe some of the things that have happened in my office."

Chloe paused as she made the connection. "Their mother? I know Charlotte Richards is Rae's mom, but she's Lucifer's mother, too? And Amenadiel's?" Seeing Linda's nod, she frowned, her brows furrowing. "How is that even possible? Charlotte Richards... I mean, she used to be a cop before she was a lawyer. She has history here."

Linda smiled. She explained the situation with Lucifer's mother, talking Chloe through the takeover of Charlotte Richards' body and the sentence that Lucifer had imposed.

"Her poor family," Chloe murmured. "I mean, Charlotte's family. The actual Charlotte, not the... the Goddess. This has got to be so weird for them. But that explains why Lucifer kept insisting that he hadn't had sex with her."

"Right," Linda agreed, not bothering to hide her smile. She looked shrewdly at Chloe and suggested, "But we haven't really gotten to the elephant in the room, have we?"

Chloe didn't speak for a long moment. "No," she agreed finally. "It's Lucifer. If Rae is really an angel, then he's really the Devil, right? Linda, I'm friends with the Devil." Realization struck, and she turned wide-eyed to the therapist. "And you! You had sex with the Devil!"

For a moment, Linda's gaze went distant and reflective. She smiled. "Trust me," she said archly, "when I say that sex with the Devil is not a bad thing."

Chloe's eyebrows lifted and she didn't comment, though her cheeks went a little pink.

"But, really," Linda continued, her expression full of empathy, "he's still the same person - well, devil - that he always was."

After a moment, Chloe nodded. "He is," she agreed quietly, her expression thoughtful but still troubled. "And Maze... she's really a demon? Forged in the bowels of Hell? "

Linda nodded, with a fond smile for the mention of her friend. "She is, but, Chloe, she's come so far." She paused. "Not that I'm by any way an expert on this. I haven't met any other demons - well, that I know of - but I know I'd trust Maze with my life."

"I still can't - " Chloe began, sounding entirely disbelieving, "A demon. I live with a demon. I let her watch my daughter. I just really need my roommate to be somebody I can count on, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but I really can count on her. I mean, I don't think she's ever going to put dishes away without being threatened first, but I know she always has my back."

The two women talked long into the night, eventually making screwdrivers with the vodka that Linda had picked up on the way, anticipating that alcohol might come in handy. Feeling that forewarned was forearmed, Linda warned Chloe about Lucifer's other form. Chloe was somewhat dismayed, even when Linda assured her that, despite looking a little gruesome, Lucifer felt no pain. The conversation meandered as Chloe made new connections, and Linda was forthright and reassuring.

At the end of the evening, Linda took a Lyft home, promising to return the next day for her car. Chloe, after looking in on Trixie, collapsed into her bed, her head spinning with the alcohol and with everything she had learned. Blearily, she reached for her phone and scrolled through her contacts to find Lucifer's name. Trixie had at some point added a devil emoji, and Chloe smiled to see it, her thumb hovering over the screen. For all the information that Linda had given her, she knew she needed to talk to Lucifer. She took a deep breath, considering the phone for a moment longer, then pushed the power button, blanking the screen. She did need to talk with Lucifer, but tomorrow was soon enough.

* * *

 

_Concurrently_

Trixie paused outside her room, hearing a soft, familiar snicking sound from down the hallway. She turned and, seeing that Maze's door was open a crack, bounded to it and knocked. Her mother had told her - several times, actually - how important it was that she always, _always_ knock before going into Maze's room.

"Who is it?"

"Maze, it's me!"

A pause. "Me who?"

"It's Trixie! Can I come in?"

The tip of one high-heeled boot worked its way in the small opening between the door and the doorjamb, then pulled the door open. "Come on, little human," Maze replied with a smile. She sat on her bed with an array of knives, sharpening one of them.

Trixie moved to lean against the edge of the bed, considering the knives with interest. Her mother had said to be very, _very_ careful around Maze's knives. (Her mother tended to repeat words a lot where Maze was concerned.) "Hi!" she added brightly.

"You look particularly happy today," Maze observed, running the blade along the whetstone in smooth, easy strokes. "How come? Is there cake downstairs?"

"No," Trixie replied with a sigh, still lamenting the lost chocolate cupcake from St. Brennan's. "But I saw the play today, at Rae's church. It was really good."

After a derisive sound at the thought of the play - or anything at a church, really - bring good, Maze looked over with interest. "Did somebody get video? I _told_ Linda..." Seeing the little girl's nod, Maze smirked, pleased. It was always good to have blackmail material. Azrael might be in a mortal body now, but that could change, and knowing that she could have dirt on the Angel of Death made Maze extremely happy.

But Trixie was still talking. "... and she has _wings_ , Maze! She said she can fly, and it's so _cool_!"

The knife stopped its motion on the whetstone. Maze lifted her eyes to consider the excited little girl before her.

Trixie faltered. "You knew that, right? That Rae's an angel?" Her voice dropped to a whisper at the last word. "Mommy said don't just tell people, but you knew, right, Maze?"

"Yeah, kid," Maze replied after a moment. "I knew. So..." The demon cleared her throat. "So your mom knows, too?"

Trixie nodded, her eyes rounding. "She was surprised. She's downstairs talking to Doctor Linda."

Maze admired the little human's gift for understatement. Surprised. She just bet. "Good," she decided. "Linda will help." She started sharpening her knife again, the familiar motion soothing. Realizing that she was using too much pressure, Maze lightened her touch. Cocking an eyebrow at Trixie, she queried, her tone not quite casual enough, "So she just...   _told_ you she's an angel?"

Trixie shook her head, pigtails flying. "No. We went in the bathroom because I had too much apple juice, and Rae was there and she had these wings. Maze, they're so pretty!"

Maze huffed a short, derisive noise. "Of course it was apple juice. Can't get away from apples."

"Maze?"

The demon looked up, continuing the motion of knife on whetstone with ease. "Yeah?"

Almost, Trixie looked shy. "Are you an angel, too? "

Maze bit back her initial response, though her grip tightened for a moment on the knife. She didn't want to scare the kid, not when she was innocent of the insult she had given. Maze spoke carefully. "No, I'm something else. I'm a demon. It's the opposite of an angel. Kind of like how I like chocolate cake, and she likes vanilla."

Trixie considered the news for a moment and then nodded, apparently taking it in stride. She knew Maze, after all. "I don't know why everybody doesn't like chocolate best," she confided.

Maze smiled.

Trixie gestured to the whetstone. "Can I do that?"

Maze considered. It was a useful skill, really, one that every girl should know. The fact that it would tie Decker's panties in a knot was just a bonus. She patted the bed, indicating a closer spot. "C'mere. I'll show you."

Maze was not naturally a reflective individual. As she guided Trixie's hands, helping the little girl get just the right angle to put a keen edge on her blade, she couldn't help but think, just a little, on how her life had changed. Much as it still surprised her, some humans weren't awful. And if Lucifer's stupid little sister had messed everything up... well, there would have to be consequences.

Grinning up at Maze, Trixie got to her feet. "Thanks," the little girl said. She leaned in to hug Maze, then skipped to the door. "That was fun!"

"You're welcome, little human," Maze replied, with a distant smile of her own. She put away most of her knives, but took care to secret her Hell-forged blades in their usual spots, and to tuck another in the sheath in her boot. Slipping out of her room, she moved stealthily to the top of the stairs, where she could hear Chloe and Linda talking.

"I just," the detective began, sounding entirely disbelieving, "A demon. I live with a demon. I let her watch my daughter. I just really need my roommate to be somebody I can count on, and I can't -"

Right. A demon. Someone not to be counted on. Maze moved through the apartment, her supernatural speed ensuring that the two women didn't notice her presence. Time for consequences.


	5. The Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Amenadiel encounter Azrael's admirer; still reeling from her talk with Michael, Azrael tells Lucifer and Amenadiel what happened with Chloe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Leonore09 for insight into why Azrael pushed Chloe to see that her wings are real.

"No." Despite her refusal, Ella laughed, shaking her head at Lucifer and Amenadiel. "No way."

"Come on, Miss Lopez," Lucifer wheedled, his charm turned up to eleven. "Help a brother out." Catching Amenadiel's raised eyebrow, he added, "I'm Rae's brother; that's what I meant."

Gathering up a pile of discarded costumes, Ella moved to a hanging rack in the room that had served as a staging area for the play. "That's why I'm not telling you where Jack is," she replied with a grin, starting to put costumes on hangers. "I have brothers, remember? And most of them are older. I like Rae. I wouldn't help you embarrass her like that."

Trailing behind the forensic tech, Lucifer protested, "We wouldn't embarrass her at all. We just want to..." He shot a brief grin over his shoulder at Amenadiel. "... ascertain the young man's intentions."

"Which would embarrass her," Ella completed, not fooled in the slightest. "You don't have to worry about Jack. He's a good kid, I promise. I mean, he's an altar boy."

Lucifer drew himself upright, brows lifting. "An altar boy, really? Serving dear old Dad? Well, we can't have that, not for Rae."

"Nothing wrong with altar boys," Ella said brightly. "I mean, I dated an altar boy and we... actually, never mind, don't listen to me." She paused. "But we were older than Rae and Jack. A lot older. And he was a _former_ altar boy."

Leaning closer to Ella, Lucifer purred, "That sounds like a story for later."

Ella smiled, but made no promises.

Amenadiel nodded to the entrance, where Jack had entered, a pair of cookies in hand. "Luci, there he is."

"Ah, yes," Lucifer agreed. He considered the young man: not overly tall, but there was time enough for that to change. Dark hair in need of cutting, flopping in his eyes... or maybe that was the intended style? He could be attractive to boys and girls of that age, Lucifer supposed, in a non-threatening, boy band sort of way. "Thank you, Miss Lopez," he said, with a vaguely predatory grin in Jack's direction. "You have been absolutely no help whatsoever. Now, if you will excuse us..." He strode lithely across the room, Amenadiel in his wake, and approached the boy. "Hello, Jack," Lucifer said brightly, popping the final consonant.

"Hi," Jack replied, sounding puzzled. He attempted to move past the pair, but found his movement arrested by Lucifer's hand on his shoulder. "Uh, do I know you?"

Lucifer steered the young man to the opposite end of the room, though Ella still kept an eye on the trio. "Lucifer," that person explained, indicating himself. With a nod to his looming brother, he added, "Amenadiel. And we've already established your identity."

"Lucifer?" Jack echoed. A good Catholic boy, he had obviously heard the name, and studied Lucifer with wary interest before replying, "Wicked."

Lucifer grinned despite himself. "Yes, quite," he agreed. Expression sobering, he added, "We recently learned that you have an interest in - wait, where did you get those cookies?"

"Focus, Luci," Amenadiel rumbled, folding his arms over his chest

Jack pulled his gaze from Amenadiel's biceps to gesture back the way he had come. "The fellowship hall. There's a lot more, if you want some."

Lucifer cast a look in the direction that Jack had indicated, but a nudge from Amenadiel got him back on track. "Right. We've heard that you're interested in our sister."

His expression perplexed, Jack queried, "Who is your sister?" He flicked his gaze between Lucifer and Amenadiel, brows lowering. "You guys are brothers?"

The siblings looked at each other, then leveled their collective gazes on Jack. He edged back a step.

"Of course we're brothers," Lucifer replied, sounding exasperated. "Why wouldn't we be? And our sister is Rae. Azrael." He gestured vaguely toward the sanctuary. "The angel in tonight's ridiculous performance."

Jack's expression cleared. "Oh, Rae," he said. He nodded, though not without a trace of uneasiness, aimed mostly at Amenadiel. His brows lowering, he asked, "How are you guys Rae's brothers?"

"We have a very large family," Amenadiel replied, his voice deep and not particularly reassuring.

Jack looked up, and then up a little more. "Yeah," he agreed. "Okay." He didn't seem inclined to add to the conversation.

With an exasperated huff, Lucifer said, "There's a much simpler way to do this." He leaned down, catching Jack's suddenly fascinated gaze. "Tell me, what is it you desire?"

* * *

Azrael made her way into the room, and was almost immediately swept into a hug by Ella. "Hey, chickie, you were great!" When Azrael didn't respond, Ella pulled away a little and asked, "Everything okay?"

Azrael look a deep breath. "I... sorry, I just need to talk with my brother."

Ella nodded agreeably. "No problem. Just don't forget to give me your robe and your wings before you leave." She straightened the cockeyed halo, with a smile, adding, "You can keep this, though. It suits you."

Azrael nodded, rummaging in her cat backpack for the clothes she had worn to the church, exchanging the robe for a simple red knit dress. She handed the robe to Ella, then froze as she caught sight of Amenadiel and Lucifer with Jack. "What are they doing?" she asked, her gaze not leaving her brothers.

"I did not tell them that Jack likes you," Ella assured her. "But they found out somehow and... well, brothers. You know how they can be."

Azrael watched them in silence for a moment. "Linda must have told them," she decided, with a sigh of frustration.

"She must not have brothers," Ella suggested, hiding a grin.

Azrael nodded. "They're going to ruin everything." She strode purposefully over to the group. Just then, anger was easier than fear.

Watching her, Ella let out a low whistle, then trailed along behind the girl.

"There you are," Lucifer greeted Azrael, with a bright grin. "Sad news, little sis. He's interested in you, but more interested in playing pro basketball."

Azrael glared at her brothers, rounding on Lucifer. "What are you doing?" she demanded, her voice quiet but intent. "This is completely unnecessary."

"Yes," Lucifer agreed unrepentantly, "but it was amusing, and after sitting through that fiasco of a play, I deserve a little entertainment."

Jack, his eyes still a little glazed, blinked at Azrael in some befuddlement. "Why did I tell him all that?" he asked.

"I'm so sorry, Jack," Azrael said, stepping closer to the boy. "My brothers are..." She sighed and shook her head, clearly not finding the words.

Amenadiel cleared his throat. " _I_ didn't do anything," he pointed out. Azrael ignored him.

Jack smiled. "It's okay." He darted a glance toward Lucifer and Amenadiel. Then, in a daring move, he stepped forward and kissed Azrael's cheek before bolting out of the room.

Hooting gleefully, Lucifer called after the boy, "You need to work on your technique, but extra points for moxie." Azrael looked after Jack, and Lucifer added, "You're better off without him, little sister. His mind isn't complex at all; he folded like a cheap suit."

Azrael turned back to the others, her lips compressed into a thin line. "I need to talk to you two privately. Now, if you please." She stalked to the exit opposite the one Jack had taken, clearly expecting her brothers to follow.

"Was that her first kiss?" Ella asked Lucifer, brows lifted.

"I have no idea," Lucifer replied, looking after his sister, "I certainly hope not; it was dreadful." Turning back to Ella, he added, "She's a real peach when she gets her dander up, eh?"

Ella nodded, her expression full of sympathy. "She's at that age where everything starts getting complicated. I thought my brother Manny was going to lock my oldest niece in a convent when she was eleven."

"A convent, there's a thought," Lucifer said, turning to Amenadiel with a grin. "Dad would approve, don't you think?"

Amenadiel forebore from rolling his eyes. "Come on, Luci," he said, with a nod to where their sister was waiting, clearly tense.

With a rather exasperated sigh, Lucifer nodded and started across the room. "Good evening, Miss Lopez."

"Good luck," Ella replied brightly.

Azrael watched her brothers approach, then glanced around the room. A few people milled around, cleaning or just chatting, and then there was Ella, watching with interest. When Lucifer and Amenadiel reached her side, she moved down the hall and into the room where she and Michael had spoken recently, pushing open the door so her brothers could precede her.

"Here? Are you sure?" Lucifer asked, looking amused. "I mean, there's always the confessional. I can be really creative when it comes to penance."

Azrael shot a look over her shoulder at the church's exit. "Here, please."

Lucifer shrugged his acquiescence and moved into the room, Amenadiel following. Azrael brought up the rear, closing the door behind them.

"Lucifer, why would you do that?" she demanded.

"Rae -" Lucifer began, still clearly seeing the humor in the situation despite his sister's upset.

Azrael interrupted, on a roll, "It's not like he's one of your criminals. He's a child!"

"Rae." Lucifer's brows lowered, and he exchanged glances with Amenadiel, who shrugged. He surely had no idea why Azrael was reacting this way.

"Just because you got the idea that he's interested in me - which I don't reciprocate, obviously - you think it's appropriate to mess with his brain like that?"

"Rae!"

"Lucifer, will you please stop saying my name?"

Lucifer stepped to his sister's side and rested a hand on her shoulder, brows lifting when she stiffened. "Sit down," he said gently. "You're shaking."

Just when she needed it the most, Azrael's anger drained away, leaving only a cold, hard knot of fear. She nodded, easing herself into one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs.

"What's all this about?" Lucifer asked, tucking his hands in his pocket and looking down on his sister in sincere puzzlement. "You can't honestly be this upset about the boy..."

"He's not worth it," Amenadiel murmured, eliciting a brief grin from Lucifer.

Azrael shook her head. "Of course I'm not," she replied. "I mean, I was hoping he'd keep his distance, as the last thing I need right now is some boy mooning after me, but -" She shook her head, her mouth working for a moment. "Amenadiel is right. He's not important. I just... I have to tell you something."

"What is it?" Amenadiel asked.

Seeing her brothers' expressions - Lucifer expectant and still a bit amused, while Amenadiel looked a little wary - Azrael swallowed, then asked Lucifer, "Do you have your flask?"

Lucifer grinned his encouragement. "Falling off the wagon? I couldn't think of a better place. Almost had a nip, myself, during that ridiculous production." He pulled his flask out of his pocket and offered it to his sister.

Azrael knocked back a healthy slug, then returned the flask to Lucifer. When the liquid courage didn't seem to suffice, Lucifer urged, "Come on, then. It can't be as bad as all that."

"Yes, it can," Amenadiel muttered.

"Well, unless the Boy Wonder out there got you pregnant," Lucifer added, clearly in jest. "In which case we'll obviously have to kill him." When Azrael didn't smile, his brows lowered. "He didn't, did he? I mean, judging from that kiss, I wouldn't think he knows how..."

Azrael made a short, exasperated sound. "No, he didn't, because it's _not possible_. Even if he did, I'd be at least as responsible as he was. Brother, if you would stop trying to be funny, I'll tell you." She took a deep breath and then looked away, scrupulously avoiding eye contact. "Chloe knows."

"Lovely," Lucifer replied lightly. "Knows what? You're being a tad opaque, Rae."

Azrael shot a quick glance at Amenadiel, then admitted, "She saw my wings."

"She what?" Azrael flinched at Amenadiel's harsh tone. Though he did have the self-awareness to keep his volume down, he made up for that in intensity. "Azrael, I warned you to be careful about that. You just couldn't resist showing them off, could you? Or are you too busy playing at being human to listen to your elders?"

Azrael risked a look at Lucifer; his expression was curiously blank. Turning back to Amenadiel, she replied, tone defensive, "I was being careful, I swear. They shouldn't have been able to see! It's not like I was... was flaunting my wings."

Amenadiel looked thoughtful for a split second, then shook his head and began a heated response. Lucifer interrupted, his voice deadly calm. "Be quiet, both of you. Azrael, what... how did the Detective respond?"

"She didn't think they were real," Azrael replied, and the overall tension among the males in the room in the room ratcheted down a notch.

"But you said she knows..." Amenadiel began, his tone implying that Azrael should continue.

Azrael nodded. "She does," she agreed, her voice quiet. When the silence dragged on and Amenadiel advanced on Azrael, a possible attempt at shaking the information out of her thwarted by Lucifer's hand on his arm, she confessed, rattling out the words in short bursts as if saying them faster would make them easier to hear, "I... made her see. Put my wings away, brought them back. Let her look, really look. So she'd know it wasn't a trick."

Amenadiel started forward again, this time without hindrance from Lucifer, who was watching his siblings but not quite seeing them. Amenadiel rested his hands on the arms of his sister's chair and leaned down, effectively trapping her in the seat. "What were you thinking?" he demanded, enunciating each word with deliberate care, his voice a low rumble.

Azrael's jaw worked for a moment. She didn't look away from Amenadiel; his proximity made that all but impossible. Her voice small but still distinct, she replied, "She wanted me to tell Trixie that angels aren't real."

"Then you tell Trixie that angels aren't real," Amenadiel replied, all but growling.

"Why should I?" Suddenly furious, Azrael shoved Amenadiel hard, though her mass wasn't enough to displace him and he smirked down at her. With an inarticulate sound of frustrated anger, she lunged up, catching his face hard with the top of her head, the tinsel halo coming off in a shower of bobby pins. She skittered past her brother when Amenadiel recoiled, lifting one hand to his nose. "Why should I?" she repeated, her eyes glistening. "I'm already trapped in this body. I'm not going to deny what I am. Not like that. Not to people who matter."

Amenadiel started after Azrael, but Lucifer interspersed himself between the two. "Enough." While his voice was quiet, the steel in his tone and the brief red glint to his eyes were enough to bring Azrael, at least, to heel. Amenadiel took a moment longer, but subsided as well, moving to sit in the chair his sister had recently occupied and wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand.

Taking note of the blood, Lucifer almost smiled. "She's been training with Maze. What did you expect? You're lucky she chose that target."

"She caught me off guard," Amenadiel muttered, chagrined.

"She shouldn't have," Lucifer replied.

" _She_ has a name," Azrael replied, though not without a triumphant look at Amenadiel. It was not every day, after all, that one bested the Firstborn.

Lucifer turned to his sister, whose self-satisfied look smoothed to one of careful neutrality. "Didn't you just ask me to _stop_ saying your name?" She lowered her gaze, lifting a hand to rub the top of her head, and Lucifer continued abruptly, "Now. Share with the class, what was the Detective's response to your revelation?"

Azrael took a deep breath. "She was shocked," she replied. "Called on our father a few times. Asked a few questions. Then she left." Lucifer made a wry face at the mention of their father, and Azrael clarified, "She wasn't really calling on him. I mean, she doesn't - didn't - believe in him, right? She just... said the words. There was nothing behind them."

"No, she doesn't" Lucifer murmured, "And what a lovely thought, not believing in him."

Azrael hesitated, then asked Lucifer, "You're not angry?" She did not ask Amenadiel if he was angry. Noting the pointed omission, he shook his head with a soft, annoyed exhalation, then got to his feet and stalked silently out of the room.

"What, that the Detective knows our dirty little secret?" Lucifer shook his head, looking thoughtfully after Amenadiel. "It's not like I haven't told her as much a thousand times. I am a little put out that you're the one that finally convinced her, but..." He lifted his shoulders in an eloquent shrug. "It'll make things interesting, assuming she doesn't head for the hills."

Azrael exhaled a quiet sound of relief. "She won't leave." Ignoring Amenadiel's departure, Azrael tipped her head to one side, watching Lucifer with a small smile. "You could have convinced her any time you wanted, just by showing her Mr. Crispy."

"Mr. Crispy," Lucifer echoed, clearly torn between amusement and umbrage.

Azrael gestured vaguely at Lucifer. "You know. Your other form."

"I know what you mean," he replied pointedly. "But must you call it that?"

"Not if it bothers you," Azrael replied easily. "Sorry."

"It's just a little flippant, is all."

Azrael smiled just a little. "Says the epitome of seriousness and respect."

"Now, now, do as I say, not as I do," Lucifer chided. "As for why I didn't show the Detective my other side, you know what it does to humans. I thought I'd broken Doctor Linda when she saw."

With a thoughtful nod, Azrael replied, "Nothing against Linda, but Chloe's different."

"Yes," Lucifer agreed reflectively. "She is, isn't she?"

"Just... go slowly," Azrael suggested. "Don't rush over there and hash it out tonight." When Lucifer started to protest, she said, "She needs time to think about all this, brother. Really."

Lucifer nodded slowly. "I suppose," he agreed reluctantly. "I just want to make sure she's all right."

"You can," Azrael reassured. "Just maybe give her until tomorrow."

With a nod of acquiescence, Lucifer looked in the direction Amenadiel had taken. "You may have made an enemy there."

Azrael shrugged, though her unconcern didn't entirely ring true. "It'll be fine. He's gone off to sulk, but he'll get over it."

Lucifer smiled. "Sounds like someone else I know," he needled gently.

"I," Azrael replied with dignity, "do not sulk." At Lucifer's upraised eyebrow, she amended, "Much. Glad you were here, though. That could have gotten ugly."

"Funny how I was the voice of reason," Lucifer observed, inclining his head in acknowledgement. He regarded his sister thoughtfully, reaching to rest a hand on her shoulder. "Not that I don't have the occasional desire to bash our brother in the face, but that's not really your modus operandi. Everything okay?"

Azrael inhaled a shaky breath, caught off guard by Lucifer's kindness just as Amenadiel had been by her head butt. She regarded her brother, then looked away, nodding. She couldn't tell him what had happened with Michael. Not now. "Of course," she replied quietly.

Lucifer was silent for a moment. "If you're going to lie to me, Azrael," he said coolly, lifting his hand from her shoulder "You might at least try to be more convincing." Adjusting his cuffs, he added, turning toward the door, "I've spent quite enough time in this place. Coming?"

Shaking her head, Azrael replied, "I... I have some things to finish up here. I'll get a Lyft or something later." She hesitated, then called, "Luci?" He turned, one hand on the doorknob. "Thanks for coming today. I know you didn't want to do it."

Lucifer nodded and left the room. Azrael sank onto a bench and let her head fall into in her hands. She remained that way for several minutes, rocking slightly, shoulders shaking, and so didn't notice the door opening, or even the dark-haired figure sitting next to her on the bench. She startled when she felt the arm around her shoulders, lifting her head and wiping hurriedly at her eyes.

"C'mere, chickie," Ella urged. "Come on, it's okay."

"No, it's not," Azrael replied miserably, though she leaned against Ella, her eyes closing. Sometimes, occasionally, rarely, her father managed to send just the right person at precisely the right time.


	6. The Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella perks Azrael up after her challenging day, and Maze arrives to provide transportation; Jack makes a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This picks up at the end of the previous chapter. Lucifer and Chloe's talk will be in the next chapter.  
> The characterization of Raziel is from Lamb by Christopher Moore.  
> Rating bumped for language.

"So," Ella said slowly, when Azrael's breathing had evened out and the silence had grown too heavy, "Tough day?"

Azrael pulled away a little, with a humorless chuckle. "You could say that," she agreed. "Thanks for coming to check on me, Ella. I appreciate it."

Ella bumped Azrael lightly with her shoulder and said, "I swear, you're the oldest little kid I've ever met. You don't need to thank me for something like that." She was quiet a moment, then asked gently, "Want to talk about it?"

Yes. Yes, Azrael wanted to talk about it. But talking about it would require explanations that Azrael was not prepared to give, and that Ella was definitely not prepared to hear, so she shook her head. After a moment, she replied, "It's just... family stuff. It's a little complicated." She added, with a faint smile, "And I guarantee that you will never meet an older kid than me."

"Up to you if you don't want to talk," Ella replied amiably, "But I'm good at complicated, and sometimes it helps to talk things out." When Azrael didn't reply, Ella asked, "Did your brothers take off?"

"Yes," Azrael replied. "I know Lucifer did, at least, and I'll bet Amenadiel did as well. He was, uh, pretty mad."

"He did look like he wanted to hit somebody," Ella agreed. Looking as if inspiration had struck, she asked, "Got plans for tonight?" Azrael shook her head, and Ella grinned. "Okay. How about this: we pick up a pizza, go back to my place and watch some ridiculous movie. Sound good?" Her enthusiasm for the plan was clear.

"But it's Saturday night," Azrael replied, puzzled. "Don't you have something better to do?" Unspoken but obvious was her assumption that this was a pity invitation. Why else, after all, would Ella want to hang out with someone she perceived to be a kid, even if said kid was the oldest living eleven year-old.

"What's better than this?" Ella asked, with all apparent sincerity. "C'mon, chickie, let's go! You like anchovies on your pizza, right?" Seeing Azrael's dubious look, she laughed as she got to her feet. "Kidding! Oh, by the way, Mrs. McElroy turned in your wings. She said you have an... interesting vocabulary." Though Ella didn't elaborate, the amused glint in her eyes made it clear that the elderly woman had been specific in her complaint.

Azrael grinned. In the grand scheme of her life, this was a minor issue. "I read a lot," she said, her earnest manner obviously feigned. Reminded of her costume, she scooped up her discarded tinsel halo and stuffed it in her bag.

"Ha. Lend me some of those books." Ella herded Azrael out of the room and past a particularly watchful Jack. They paused for Ella to text Lucifer about Azrael's whereabouts, despite the girl's assurance that he wouldn't care, then picked up a pizza and then went to Ella's place.

Azrael was still looking amused as they approached Ella's door. "There's no way we can eat all this," she protested, carefully balancing the massive pizza box.

"No, you should always get the biggest pizza," Ella explained as she opened the door for Azrael. "I mean, think about it: a sixteen-inch pizza is actually four times as big as an eight-incher - pi r-squared, right? - but it never costs four times as much. And then you have leftovers. I read this article about it and I was like, this makes total sense; I just hadn't thought of it. Mind... blown! Math for the win!"

Azrael had stopped listening to Ella's enthusiastic explanation as soon as the door had opened and she'd caught sight of Ella's Christmas tree. She stepped into the apartment and put the pizza down on the coffee table, approaching the tree. Taking up all possible space in its corner of the room, the tree was crammed with ornaments. While there were the typical globes, as well as homemade ornaments that were likely gifts from younger family members or relics of Ella's childhood, most of the ornaments were, in a word, geeky. Battlestar Galactica, the TARDIS and Serenity shared space with several ships from both Star Trek and Star Wars fandoms. There were also character-based ornaments - mostly female - and a set of wooden, laser-etched ornaments depicting female scientists. While Azrael didn't recognize most of what she saw - barring the scientists, who were labeled - she appreciated Ella's dedication. And at the top of the tree, an angel covered its eyes.

Azrael turned, with a grin. "Ella, this tree is perfect. It's so you." Looking up, she added, "Is that a Weeping Angel on the top?"

"Thank you, and yes," Ella replied, gathering plates and other necessities. "That's what we could watch," she enthused. "It's actually a really good stand-alone episode. You don't have to know anything about the show to watch it."

Azrael nodded agreeably, though she had paused in front of the wall beyond the tree, studying it with interest. Gesturing as she looked over her shoulder to Ella, she queried, "What is that, and has Mazikeen seen it? I mean, knives are her thing, but I think she'd like this as well."

Ella leaned back to see what had caught Azrael's attention, then grinned, nodding toward the curved, spiky blade. "Maze hasn't seen it as far as I know, but that's a Klingon bat'leth. It's a replica of the one Worf used." Seeing Azrael's blank expression as the girl joined her on the couch, Ella clarified, "From Star Trek? The Next Generation?" When Azrael still didn't look enlightened, Ella shook her head as she offered a plate. "You don't know Star Trek, you didn't know Doctor Who, the day we met. Girl, where did you grow up?"

"The Silver City," Azrael replied indistinctly. "Television - I'm guessing that's what this is about - wasn't really a thing. I mean, I've watched some since I got here, but there's a lot to catch up on." Seeing Ella's surprised expression, she smiled as she took her pizza, murmuring her thanks. "I had kind of a weird childhood."

Ella grinned. "Well, it's not like it's over," she offered. "You've still got years to be a kid."

Azrael nodded, her smile fading. "Apparently so," she agreed quietly. While it was possible that her father would let her return to the Silver City - maybe even to her job - getting to that point would likely require a good grovel to Michael, if her brother stayed true to form. Azrael was not yet prepared to suffer that.

"Hey, that's a good thing," Ella encouraged. She doled out napkins, then said, "So, how about Jack, huh? I didn't think he had the guts."

"Especially not after being buttonholed by my brothers," Azrael agreed, shaking her head.

"Aw, they weren't so bad," Ella consoled. "I mean, sure, they loomed a little, but they didn't threaten to tear his arms off. Or to tear anything else off. Jack didn't seem upset or anything."

Azrael stretched out a bit, shaking her head once more. "They wouldn't hurt him," she said, her voice full of certainty. "It's just really weird to see them on the same side. I mean, they've been butting heads for almost as long as I can remember." It was weird. This was the first time she'd seen Lucifer and Amenadiel in the same room since her arrival, and the relatively amicable manner between the two of them was a little unnerving.

"Huh. I wouldn't have guessed. Brothers." Ella grinned, then gave Azrael an amused, knowing look. "And Jack kissed you right in front of them."

Azrael sighed, a quiet, drawn-out sound." Not exactly where I'd been thinking today would go," she admitted, adding rather wryly, "And then Lucifer teased me about getting pregnant."

Expression going thoughtful, Ella asked, "You lived with your dad back in... Silver City?" When Azrael nodded, she continued, "And... I think Chloe said that you were homeschooled?"

Not really sure where Ella was going with her questions, and a little disconcerted that she had apparently been a topic of conversation, Azrael lifted her shoulders in a small shrug, starting in on her pizza. "I don't go to school." It was an agreement of sorts, and certainly easier than the truth.

Uncharacteristically hesitant, Ella said, "I'm not sure how much your father has told you about, well, growing up."

"Dad's not really the sharing type," Azrael replied, puzzled.

Ella nodded, chewing her pizza for a moment as if to give herself time to formulate what to say next. "Okay, well. You know, you're getting older, right?"

"Wait," Azrael interrupted as realization struck, desperately trying not to laugh. "Is this a sex talk? Ella, I swear, I've got that covered. I mean, I live with my brother - with Lucifer Morningstar. I know you can't get pregnant from kissing. Trust me when I say that I understand how it all works." She paused, then added ruefully, "Sometimes in surround sound."

Expression both relieved and embarrassed, Ella nodded. "Yeah, but it's not just sex. I mean, the way your brain chemistry changes, and -"

"Covered," Azrael repeated, with a smile. "Promise. Not by my father - what a truly horrifying thought - but I get it. Um, lecture, not lab, by the way. Did I mention that I read a lot? Also, well, I have eyes."

"Okay, good. Well, if you ever have any questions, I'm around." Ella regarded Azrael earnestly.

Azrael nodded agreeably. "Better you than Lucifer," she quipped. "Either he'd make that face that I was even asking, or he'd tell me far more than I wanted to know, and get out that book with the pictures. But, really, I'm good. Uh, weren't we going to watch the thing with the angels?"

Ella grinned. "Awkward segue accepted," she said, reaching for the remote.

* * *

Jack sat on the steps of St. Brennan's, waiting for his parents, which he knew could take forever. It was always, _oh, just one more cup of coffee_ , and while he could be in there eating more of those cookies, he wanted a little time for himself. He still wasn't sure what exactly had happened earlier, with Rae's brothers, and then... after. He hadn't meant to spill his guts like that, and he definitely hadn't meant to kiss her. Well, not that he hadn't thought about kissing her, but he'd imagined a little more privacy, and definitely less commentary. And what even _was_ moxie, anyway?

Rae would probably be at church the next day, and it would be weird. Before, she hadn't really seemed to notice him, but now? It would definitely be weird.

Jack heard the sound of heels clicking, and looked up from his contemplation of his shoes to see a woman approaching. He noticed her dark hair, but his eyes latched on to her leather pants and her... well, he supposed it was a shirt. There wasn't an awful lot of it, Jack observed. Not that he was complaining.

The woman stalked toward Jack, evoking in the boy a combination of fear and desire that would haunt - well, no, not haunt, precisely - his dreams for years to come. His lizard brain recognized a predator, and suggested that running away might not be a bad idea, but that wasn't the part of his brain that he was using. Truth be told, he wasn't really using his brain at all.

A sharp sound caught his attention: the woman snapped her fingers. "Up here, human."

With a guilty start, Jack pulled his eyes to the woman's face. "Y-yes?"

"I'm looking for someone," the woman told him, her voice hard.

Jack sat up straight, trying to look taller. "I'm someone," he offered.

For a moment, the woman looked like she was considering... something, and Jack's heart leaped in terrified anticipation, even as his brain scrambled for what she might be considering. When she shook her head, he exhaled softly in relief.

"Not you," she said with a smirk. She held out her phone and Jack saw a picture: a smaller, dark-haired girl, and...

"That's Rae." He peered up at the woman in some confusion, though if he were to be truly honest with himself, he wasn't really thinking, so confusion was a given. "Are you her sister?"

"What? No!" Jack instinctively leaned away from the woman's sudden anger and the knives in her voice. "Why would you think that? We don't look anything alike."

Jack stumbled over his words in his haste to get them out. "Sorry. Sorry! I met her brothers today, and they don't look like her, either. That's all. You don't look like her. You're way prettier."

The woman smiled for a moment, then accepted the praise as her due. With a nod toward the church, she asked, "Is she in there? Go get her for me."

Jack was on his feet before the reality of Rae's location registered. "She's not in the church." That small part of his brain that had been whispering about danger asserted itself, and he asked, "Who are you? Why do you want Rae?"

The woman stepped closer, and Jack stopped breathing for a moment. "Where is she?"

"With Ella," Jack stammered, the words escaping before he'd realized. "Ella Lopez. I think they were going to go back to her place."

"Huh." The woman nodded and turned on her high-heeled boots, walking toward the motorcycle that Jack was reasonably sure was parked illegally. The motorcycle roared to life, then tore down the road. Jack stared after it, then turned to go back into St. Brennan's, no longer really feeling like being alone. Doubt started to creep up his spine, and he moved a little faster, in search of Father Joe.

* * *

_Blink_ was followed by _Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter_ , which Ella had proclaimed awesomely bad, and which Azrael had watched with fascination.

"It's an interesting way to kill someone," Azrael mused as the credits rolled, considering another piece of pizza but giving it up in favor of the popcorn that had appeared between the shows.

"What, an axe?" Ella queried, with a grin. "It was effective, at least."

Azrael blinked, clearly reeling in her thoughts. "Oh, no, I'm back on the Angels. Pulling people back in time. Death by... inaction, I guess." Though Azrael was glad that Weeping Angels were fictional; people being taken back in time would totally mess up her paperwork.

"Well, there are certainly worse ways to go," Ella observed.

Biting back a yawn, Azrael nodded. "Humans have been coming up with creative ways to kill each other since the beginning of time."

"Humans, huh?" Ella echoed, with a curious smile. Her phone pinged, and she glanced at it. "Oh, hey! Maze is here, I guess to give you a ride back to Lux."

"Huh. Well, her motorcycle is way more fun than a Lyft," Azrael commented, scrambling to her feet and getting her backpack, disinclined to keep Maze waiting. "Thanks, Ella," she added with a smile. "This was fun. It felt good to get out of my head, for a change."

Walking Azrael to the door, Ella nodded. "Any time, Rae," she replied, with a smile. She waved cheerfully to Maze, still on her motorcycle, who nodded in response.

Azrael climbed onto the motorcycle behind Maze and geared herself to grip the demon's waist. She was reasonably certain that she wouldn't lose a finger, but there was always that niggling sense of doubt.

"Come on," Maze said, her voice sharp with impatience, and Azrael quickly looped her arms around Mazikeen's waist, gripping tightly. She wouldn't put it past Maze to take off before she was situated.

The demon gunned the motorcycle, peeling off down the street at a rate that Azrael guessed was somewhat faster than the posted speed limit. That was normal driving for Maze, though, and what Azrael enjoyed most about their trips. Before she'd gotten her wings back, it was the closest she could come to flight.

When the motorcycle zoomed past the turn for Lux, Azrael assumed that traffic or road construction or - well, this was Maze - sheer caprice had caused the demon to take an alternate route. Several minutes passed and Maze made no move toward Lux.

"I think you missed the turn," Azrael called.

It's possible that Maze didn't hear Azrael over the wind, as she didn't react. The surroundings became more dilapidated and the motorcycle eventually skidded to a stop at the edge of a lot, the broken asphalt riddled with weeds. A warehouse, windows cracked where they weren't missing altogether, loomed at the far edge of the lot.

Azrael didn't even have enough time to register that she was flying through the air - and not in the fun way - before she had fallen hard. Somehow she turned the momentum of her landing into a roll and managed to end up mostly on her feet. She turned to Maze, expression mingling shock and just a little triumph, as if to say, Did you see what I just did, there?

Maze did not look impressed.

"So," Azrael said slowly, "we're taking the training on the road, now? Like Trixie did last week... a field trip?" All things considered, Azrael would have preferred the zoo.

Maze didn't answer. In a heartbeat, she was at Azrael's side and Azrael's wrist was caught in the demon's iron grip. When Azrael attempted one of the escapes, it became clear just how easy Maze had been going on her during their previous training sessions.

Maze's grip tightened. "Do you know how many little bones you have in your wrist?"

Actually, Azrael did, but she realized that this was one of those times that she should keep her knowledge to herself. Voice level, she said, "Mazikeen, you're hurting me."

The demon smirked. "Tiny Death, I haven't even started to hurt you."

"Have I offended you somehow?" Azrael asked, giving up on freeing herself. "I mean, more than usual?"

"You told. You stupid bitch, you told Chloe, and now everything is ruined." Just as the wickedly curved knife appeared in Maze's free hand, lightning split the cloudless sky and thunder echoed between the buildings, loud and bright enough to distract even the demon. Azrael took advantage of Maze's loosened grip to free herself; three running steps and then she launched herself into the air, coming to a landing atop the warehouse. Her muscles protested at the movement; she would definitely feel that tomorrow.

"What the hell?" Maze called accusingly, lifting her gaze skyward and then turning to Azrael. "Was that your dad? And don't think I can't get you up there." While she stalked across the lot and then stood looking up at Azrael, she made no move to scale the building.

"I have no idea," Azrael replied, with a hint of exasperation, trying not to be distracted by the feel of the breeze in her feathers. "It's not like he talks to me." She didn't point out that, should Maze also end up on the warehouse roof, Azrael could just take to the sky.

Maze huffed, all bravado. "I'm not scared of your dad."

"Well, I am," Azrael replied candidly, flicking one hand in a shooing gesture. "So if you're going to talk like that, please go back across the lot. Seriously, don't you watch horror movies? Saying you're not scared of him is like putting a target on your head." She only sounded half in jest. "If that's actually him throwing around lightning like that, I'd rather put some distance between us." Azrael paused, still warily watching the demon. "Though it could have been my brother Raziel. He's good with weather."

Maze made no move to leave. As a counteroffer to Azrael's suggestion, she flung a knife at the girl. Azrael shifted to the side, but still felt the small pain: one of her primaries. She would check the wing later. "Mazikeen, look," she protested, hands extended in a mollifying gesture, "Chloe and Trixie shouldn't have been able to see my wings. I was being careful; I still don't understand how it happened."

"Don't you get it?" Maze spat. "It doesn't matter how it happened. It matters that Chloe knows, and now I'll bet she doesn't want to be roommates anymore."

Azrael stared down at Maze, thunderstruck. "You actually care about Chloe. I... I didn't know that was possible. I mean, you're a demon."

"Shut up." Though Maze spoke through clenched teeth, her words were still clear.

Azrael took a deep breath. "Okay, sorry, that was uncalled for. Look, if I come down there, can we talk about this like reasonable beings? No violence?"

Jaw working, Maze considered the request. "Two minutes. No promises after that."

Inclining her head, Azrael glided to the ground, a tiny part of her still marveling that she had her wings. "Look," she said hesitantly. "That doesn't sound like Chloe. Did she tell you that, actually kick you out? Personally?"

Maze shifted her stance. "I heard her telling Linda." The words came stiffly.

"Oh, Linda was there?" Azrael exhaled a soft, relieved breath. "That's good. I mean, she's been through this." Maze cast an accusing glare at Azrael, and the girl edged back a step, wishing she'd asked for a head start at the end of the two minutes. "Did you try talking to Chloe? I mean, I'd give her time to process first, or... wait, ask Linda. She was there, and I'll bet she stuck up for you."

"Maybe I'll talk to Linda, but I still want to kick your ass," Maze's hostility had gone down a notch. While she'd never admit it, she was pretty sure that Azrael was right about Linda, and maybe even about Chloe, too.

Azrael inclined her head, her wings twitching. "That's most days, though, right?"

Maze exhaled a short sound that was almost a laugh. "Until recently, yes."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Azrael hesitated, then said, "You still going to try to kick my ass, before you go?" Maze bristled at the suggestion that it would only be an attempt, and Azrael hastily clarified, "No, you absolutely could, with me in my present form. It's just, I could call for backup -" She briefly assumed a prayer position then spread her hands wide, concluding regretfully, "- and I'd really hate to owe Michael and his sword a favor."

"Favors are Lucifer's thing."

Azrael shrugged. "Hey, I know that, and you know that, but Michael will take any opportunity to get me to owe him something."

Maze fingered one of her Hell-forged blades. Smacking Michael in his pompous face would feel really good, actually, but there was the chance - however slight - that the Archangel could be too much to handle. "One hit," she said finally.

Azrael's brows furrowed. "What?"

"Look - I'm going to go talk to Linda and see what happened, but you still shouldn't have told Chloe. It wasn't just your secret. So one hit." The demon folded her arms across her chest, then clarified, "No knives."

"I thought punishment was Lucifer's thing," Azrael ventured. At Maze's smirk, she shook her head a little ruefully. "Right. Never mind." She took a deep breath. "It wasn't intentional, what I did, but I do see your point. Okay, one hit, but I don't want to see it coming." She closed her eyes tightly and tucked her hands behind her back. Wouldn't do for Maze to see them shaking.

Maze saw. She turned her gaze on the small figure before her, her keen eyes catching the tremor. She had expected an argument or at least some pleading, not this blind acquiescence. It kind of took the fun out of it. Stupid angel.

The roar of the motorcycle startled Azrael into opening her eyes just in time to see Maze's departure. She exhaled a shuddering breath, stepping back to lean against the crumbling warehouse wall.

A moment later, the whoosh of an angelic arrival stirred up dust in the lot, and Azrael quickly tucked away her wings.

"It's just me." Raphael peered after the motorcycle, then turned to his sister. "That almost got interesting."

Brows lifted, Azrael queried, "So you're watching me, now? I don't need a minder, Raf."

With a gesture to their surroundings, Raphael replied, his voice tinged with sarcasm, "Yes, clearly you have everything under control. Why did you even get on the motorcycle in the first place?"

"Not that I have to explain myself to you, but have you ever been on a motorcycle?" Azrael couldn't keep back her smile. "The way she drives, it would have been worth getting hit."

Raphael snorted." Nice to see that you have your priorities in line, little sister." He squinted skywards; clouds had begun to gather. "Would you really have called on Michael?"

Azrael exhaled a long sigh as she considered her answer. "I honestly don't know. Worse, I'm not sure who I would have been rooting for, if I had." Sure, the demon scared her on a regular basis, particularly in her current form, but Michael had been actively annoying her for millenia.

Shaking her head, she queried hesitantly, "The, ah, thunder and lightning - was that Dad?"

Raphael shook his head. "Pretty sure that was Raziel. He's got kind of a vested interest in having you come out of all this in one piece, after all." Seeing Azrael's puzzled expression, he grimaced. "Wait, you didn't know? Raziel, ah, took over for you as Angel of Death."

If Azrael had not already have been leaning against the walk, she might have staggered. "Are you _serious_?" she managed, after a moment. At Raphael's nod, she protested, "But Raziel's an idiot."

"Now, that's not very charitable," Raphael chided, fighting back a smile.

"I'm not feeling very charitable," Azrael retorted. "He'd throw away the whole thing for a Snickers bar and a copy of Soap Opera Digest!" She folded her hands in prayer, but not before adding, "I'm surprised we don't have a zombie apocalypse, with Raziel doing my job."

Raphael rested a hand on Azrael's shoulder, brows lifting when she twitched away. "He won't come," he said lightly. "Dad's orders. He's giving Raziel a chance to show what he can do." As the zombie apocalypse comment registered, he added, "How much television have you been _watching_?"

"Not enough," Azrael muttered, her hands falling to her sides as she cast an irritated look skyward.

"Look, you know you'd find fault with anybody Dad picked to be Angel of Death, right?" When Azrael inclined her head in reluctant acknowledgement, he added, "Raziel isn't doing so bad a job of it. There's a learning curve, and you had an easier time if it when you started, with the lower population and all."

Azrael sighed and raked one hand through her hair. "I don't want to talk about it. Look, can you do me a favor?"

Raphael nodded agreeably. "Want a lift back to Lux?"

"Not to Lux, no."

* * *

Raphael landed easily, his feet crunching in the snow, then carefully set Azrael on her feet. "You're sure about this?"

Azrael nodded, though her gaze was on the small house. "I just... I don't know. I need a break from everything." She hugged herself, shivering a bit, then moved toward the door.

"You, ah, want me to tell Lucifer where you are?"

Azrael studied the door, then started to work at one of the bricks, wiggling it back and forth.

"Rae -"

"I'm thinking, okay?" The brick suddenly came free from the wall, and Azrael staggered back a step. She reached into the hole the brick's absence left, and pulled out a key before carefully returning the brick. "Not unless he asks," she said finally.

Raphael chuckled. "Right, because Lucifer and I are so chummy."

Azrael made a frustrated little sound." Okay, just don't immediately go tell him. I need some time to myself."

Raphael considered their surroundings: the narrow road behind them, the mountainous terrain, the absence of any other buildings nearby. "Well, you'll surely get that here."

Azrael unlocked the door. "That's the plan."


	7. The Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Lucifer manages not to make a bad decision, Chloe comes to talk with him about her new knowledge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've read so many "first talk between Lucifer and Chloe after she finds out" stories that I almost didn't write this chapter; it kind of feels like it's already been done. In any event, here it is. If I've included anything from the other stories that I'm read, I'm sorry. It's definitely unintentional.

Lucifer sat in his car outside Chloe's apartment building, the fingers of his right hand drumming impatiently on the steering wheel.

Azrael was right, though he'd never come out and admit it to her. This was the last place he should be, just now. He'd been sitting here for at least an hour, trying to talk himself into some action, _any_ action. Chloe's nosy neighbor was no doubt watching, but he couldn't bring himself to turn the key and start the car.

Another car pulled up before the building, and then a figure emerged; his heart beat a little faster. It was a woman, small and blond and... not Chloe, but still someone he should talk to. He swung out of the car and approached her, calling as he did, "Doctor Linda!"

"Lucifer!" She turned, startled, then smiled knowingly. "Chloe's gone to bed. You should go home."

On any other day, the news that Chloe had gone to bed would elicit a ribald remark from Lucifer, but not today. He sighed, then studied Linda. As a connoisseur of inebriation, he could tell that she had been drinking, but was still reasonably self-aware.

"I should," Lucifer agreed, with a wistful smile. "And it looks as if you should as well. Want me to drop you on my way back to Lux?"

Linda gestured to the other car. "I have a Lyft here, though."

Lucifer smiled charmingly. "Why take a Lyft when you can have a handsome Devil escort you home?"

Linda was coherent enough not to be fooled. "And so you can pump me for information." Lucifer inhaled to respond, with a broad grin, but Linda interrupted, "Stop! Don't say it, or I won't tell you a thing."

Lucifer chuckled as he opened his passenger side door for Linda. "Well, when you give me an opening like that... and see how I'm not making a comment about you giving me an opening?"

The other driver rolled down her window. "Are you okay, ma'am?" she queried, looking concerned. "Do you know this guy?"

"Ah, she thinks I'm trouble," Lucifer observed, his brows lifting in amusement.

"She's not wrong," Linda quipped, before adding to the driver. "I'm fine, thanks, and I do know him."

"She'll not be needing your services," Lucifer said breezily, stepping over to offer the driver a roll of cash. "For your trouble."

To her credit, the driver waited until she got a nod from Linda before taking the cash and heading off on her way.

Lucifer waited for Linda to get in the car and closed her door; after casting one more look toward the apartment building, he got in the car and started it, finally departing. "How is she?" he asked after a moment, his good humor fading.

"Look, it's a lot for her to take in," Linda said gently.

Lucifer drove in silence for a moment. "I realize that," he said quietly. "I mean, not that I haven't been telling her who I am for as long as we've known each other, but yes. This is going to be a big adjustment for her. So I'll ask again... _how is she_?"

Linda took a little while to consider her answer. "I think she'll be all right," she said finally. "But you need to give her some time. Don't go back there after you take me home. Don't break into her place tomorrow and make her breakfast. Just... let her come to you, okay?"

"Rae said something along those lines as well," Lucifer replied without enthusiasm. "I just really want to make sure she's all right."

"She will be," Linda reassured. "She had a... gentler introduction to all this than I did."

Lucifer glanced at his therapist with a bit of amusement. "What, angel wings aren't scary like Mr. Crispy?"

Linda stared at him, torn between shock and incipient laughter. "Mr. ... Crispy?"

"Name courtesy of my sister," Lucifer replied with a wry smile.

"Ah." Linda bit back a smile of her own, but added. "I told Chloe about that, by the way. I thought it might be better if she knew. I hope that's okay."

Lucifer nodded, though his gaze had gone distant. "Probably for the best," he agreed. "What did she think?"

This time, Linda did smile, a genuinely fond expression. "She worried that it hurts you."

Lucifer looked over at Linda, shocked, though his attention turned back to the road. Supernatural reflexes were helpful, but he definitely didn't want a fender-bender to interrupt this conversation.

Linda rested a hand on his arm. "She cares about you, Lucifer."

"Even... knowing the truth?" He didn't look at her now, didn't really see the road before him, either.

"Yes," Linda replied, her voice rich with sincerity. "That's not to say that she doesn't want some answers - this is Chloe, after all. But I really think it's going to be okay."

Lucifer exhaled a relieved breath and briefly covered Linda's hand with his own. "Thank you."

* * *

 

Chloe paced back and forth in the elevator to Lucifer's penthouse, trying to burn off some nervous energy. Her morning had started far too early for as late as she and Linda had been up the previous night. Maze had barged into her room at sunup and had demanded to know if she still wanted to be roommates, and then had departed abruptly at Chloe's sleep-fogged affirmative. "Good morning to you, too," Chloe had mumbled, before pulling the pillow back over her head.

Sadly, more sleep had not been in the cards. Trixie had entered not five minutes after Maze's departure, bearing a stack of pictures she had drawn. Most had prominently featured Azrael and her wings, though there was a scene or two from the play, and even one of a chocolate cupcake. Still, Trixie had been content with drowsy praise and cuddles in bed, and Chloe had dared to hope for just a little more sleep when her daughter had left in search of her phone.

Her mother's phone call, full of Christmas plans, had been the final nail in the coffin as far as more sleep went. Chloe had dragged herself out of bed to make breakfast for Trixie, only to find that Maze had already taken care of Trixie's breakfast - Toasted Sugar Frosties, but better than nothing - and had even made coffee, though there were still dirty dishes in the sink. At that point, the presence of caffeine had made Chloe willing to consider the existence of some sort of Supreme Being, Lucifer's relative or not.

She'd put off coming to see him all day, not really sure why. Some of it had been Trixie; her daughter had been practically bouncing off the walls, in part due to her sugar-laden breakfast but mostly filled with impatience for Azrael's arrival. The angel - former angel? Was she still an angel if she wasn't the Angel of Death? - had maintained radio silence all day, much to Trixie's discontent. Finally, Chloe had packed Trixie off to Dan's for the night, after repeated urgings not to share her knowledge with her father. "It's Rae's secret," she had said, "And Maze's, and Lucifer's. If they want Daddy to know, they should be the ones to tell him." Trixie had agreed, albeit reluctantly, and Chloe had been touched by her daughter's faith in Dan's ability to handle all this. She wasn't sure she was handling it, after all.

Finally, in the elevator, she waited. Had the ascent always taken so long? Faintly, the volume increasing as she drew closer, she heard music. Lucifer, of course.

The tune was upbeat, the rhythm driving and intricate, though she couldn't catch the lyrics.

The elevator doors opened, but Chloe didn't step forward, instead listening in silence, enjoying the chance to watch him while he didn't know he was being observed. Lucifer sat at the piano in his shirtsleeves, his black jacket discarded and tossed over the back of the couch. A long row of empty shot glasses lined the top of the piano, with a half-full Scotch bottle on a nearby table; the ashtray held several stubbed-out cigarettes. Now she could catch at least some of the words; the song seemed to be about a man named Sam, whose ways mesmerized women, and his affair with a showgirl.

Lucifer's hands danced over the keys during the bridge, the song taking on a jazzy play on some tune she'd heard a thousand times but whose name she would never remember. And then he began to sing again.

" _He thought it was another fling, but that girl was much too strong._

_She swore that she would see him dead if he ever did her wrong._ "

He had the voice of an angel.

" _As summer lost its leaves to fall, so this fine affair_

_Was fading fast, it couldn't last; Sam vanished in the air_."

Well. Of course he did.

The elevator doors started to slide closed and Chloe stepped forward hastily to exit the elevator in time. The scuffle of sound caught Lucifer's attention and he lifted his hands from the piano, turning.

He looked rough. His five o'clock shadow was darker than usual, his hair tousled. His usually-immaculate shirt was rumpled, as if he'd slept in it, or possibly not slept. Chloe caught herself finding his look endearing, but firmly shoved away that thought, lest she get caught in another loop of _But he's the Devil!_ She couldn't handle more of that.

"Detective!" he breathed, his expression caught somewhere between hope and worry.

Chloe stepped a little closer, trying to remind herself of what Linda had said. _He's still the same guy I've known all this time._  "So... yeah. I thought we should talk."

Lucifer scrambled to his feet and then, with visible effort, slowed his movement. Chloe could almost see him reminding himself to be careful, to go slowly, not to scare her. "I suppose we should," he agreed lightly, fumbling with his shot glasses and looking a bit put out to find that they all were empty.

"Table," Chloe suggested, when Lucifer turned, looking.

Lucifer's gaze landed on the bottle. "Right." He summoned a smile. "Thanks." He poured himself a shot and then, after a judicious pause, a second. Casting a brows-lifted look of inquiry at Chloe, he hefted the bottle.

"Mm. No, thanks," she replied. Taking a deep breath, she added, "I'd rather stay clear-headed for this."

"Right," Lucifer repeated, his expression growing concerned. He tossed back one of the drinks and then took the other to the couch, gesturing for Chloe to join him and trying not to read anything into it when she chose the chair instead of the spot next to him on the couch. "So. Heard that my sister gave you a little post-theater show last night. Well, if you could call that travesty 'theater.'"

Chloe didn't speak for a moment, instead studying Lucifer thoughtfully, her gaze skittering away when he tried to make eye contact. "She did," she finally said.

"Well," Lucifer said slowly, "You're speaking to me - you're speaking at all, for that matter - so you're handling it better than Doctor Linda. Points to you, Detective."

Chloe shifted uncomfortably in her seat." Well, I did have Linda to talk to about it," she demurred. "She was really helpful. Whatever you're paying her, it's not enough."

"Oh, I quite agree." Distraction. Humor. Maybe that would help. Lucifer leered cheerfully, adding, "Especially since she stopped accepting sex as payment. Supernatural stamina, Detective."

"Gross," Chloe muttered, though not without a smile. She met Lucifer's gaze briefly and her smile faded, brows furrowing.

Lucifer sighed very quietly. "Are you afraid of me, Detective?" He didn't, couldn't look at her.

Chloe hesitated over her answer. "Of you? Of the guy who won't stop making sex jokes even though that's _never_ going to happen? The guy whose complete inability to do paperwork drives me up a wall? Whose dedication to punishing bad guys amazes me every day? The guy who _saved my life_ and more importantly my daughter's life, who apparently really did _die_ for me?" She wiped impatiently at her eyes shaking her head. "No, Lucifer. I'm not afraid of you. It's just the whole supernatural thing that's giving me some trouble. I mean, I don't believe in that stuff, but... it's real." She shook her head again, still clearly having difficulty.

It was a moment before Lucifer could respond. Voice a little husky, he replied, "I kind of _am_  the whole supernatural thing."

"I know," Chloe replied. "And it's going to take me a while to get used to that." She got to her feet and moved to sit next to Lucifer, looking earnestly up at him. "But you're my friend, my partner, no matter what."

Lucifer nodded, a certain subtle tension leaving his body. "I'm... most glad to hear that." He cleared his throat, adding, "Is there anything I can do to help? Doctor Linda said you might have questions."

Chloe's head dropped, her hair falling to hide her face, and she laughed, a low, rippling sound. "Oh, so many questions."

"Well," Lucifer said brightly. "I'm happy to answer them."

Chloe smiled, mentally ordering her list. Wanting to start with an easy one, she asked, "So do I have to start going to church?"

"No, " Lucifer said promptly. "Church is boring and has motivated people to do truly horrifying things in my father's name. Not that it's all bad. I mean, we have Miss Lopez and, well, other people." Father Frank, though he'd never say it. "It's just not required."

"Good," Chloe replied with quiet fervor. "The play was all right, but I really don't want to spend my Sundays in church."

With a derisive laugh, Lucifer replied, "The play was both inaccurate and derivative - impressive, that - the writing was poor, the acting sub-par -"

"Lucifer they're children, " Chloe protested with a laugh. "Well, except for Rae." Her voice trailed up a bit at the end, and then she asked "How old _is_  Rae? How old are you, for that matter?"

Lucifer spread his hands in a gesture of uncertainty. "I'm not really sure. Older than humanity. Rae's somewhat younger; she really is my little sister. We didn't really pay attention to the passage of time, back in the day."

Nodding thoughtfully, Chloe asked, "So why does Rae - older than humanity - want to hang out with my eight year-old?"

"Well, for a child your offspring is reasonably inoffensive," Lucifer began. At Chloe's aggrieved look, he subsided. "Right," he said slowly, "Rae's often said that she had a weird childhood, and she did. We all did, of course, but Rae..." He sighed, with a regretful shake of his head, and tossed back his second shot, setting down the empty glass. "Our parents' relationship was already on the rocks when she she came along. Maybe they thought another child would help; maybe they didn't even think about it. But she had a tougher time of it than I did, or Amenadiel, any of the older ones. Given the opportunity for another childhood, I can't exactly blame her for taking it. She honestly enjoys Beatrice's company, though, Detective. No worries on that count."

Chloe nodded thoughtfully, though the idea that her daughter was such good friends with an impossibility ancient entity still gave her some pause. "Is Rae around?" she thought to ask. "Trixie had thought she was going to come over today, and she wasn't answering anything on her phone."

Lucifer hummed quietly and got to his feet to check Azrael's room. "I haven't seen her today. She went off with Miss Lopez after all the excitement yesterday," he said as he returned, "but it doesn't appear that she came back afterwards. I'll let her know you were asking after her."

Chloe bit back her initial response - that Lucifer should attempt to track down his sister - and instead nodded. "Thanks. I'll tell Trix." With a sudden chuckle, she said, "That explains why you didn't put her in school."

His expression one that could only be described as devilish, Lucifer said, "I did think about it, but middle school, from all I hear, is far too close to actual Hell for me to want my sister there. And, well, she never would have gone for it."

"And think of all the times you would have been called in to talk to the teachers," Chloe murmured, looking amused.

Lucifer nodded. "There was that self-preservation angle, yes."

Chloe shot him a sidelong glance, her expression sobering a bit. "While we're talking about your family, Linda said that your mom is Charlotte Richards?"

"Technically, Mum is _inside_  Charlotte Richards - inhabiting her." Lucifer grinned suddenly. "I expect you'll believe me now when I say that I haven't had sex with her?"

"Ah, yes," Chloe agreed, suppressing a shudder. Looking thoughtful, she asked, "How does that even work? Is Charlotte in there, too?"

Shaking his head, Lucifer queried, "What, like The Exorcist? No. Though if Mum starts getting overly flexible about the neck, I'll take note. No, Charlotte died, and then Mum -" He made a hopping gesture with one hand. "- took over."

"But Rae looks just like her," Chloe protested. "How did that happen? Not that I'd mind looking like Charlotte Richards," she added, sotto voce.

"You're lovely just as you are," Lucifer said seriously, expression going a little embarrassed at Chloe's sudden smile. "Ah, as for Rae looking like Mum, she - Mum - thinks that Dad was trying to make a point, though what point that was, I have no idea." Seeing Chloe's puzzled expression, he added wryly, "Dear old Dad altered Rae's appearance as well as her apparent age before he sent her here."

"So she doesn't even look like herself?" Chloe asked, her brows furrowing in sympathy. "The poor kid." Seeing Lucifer's amused expression, she added sheepishly, "... who is older than humanity, and so not actually a kid, got it. That's going to be tough to remember. Still kind of a dick move on your dad's part, though. He's still her dad, no matter how old she is."

Laughing in delight, Lucifer queried, "Even knowing who he is, you're still criticizing him? That's brilliant, Detective."

"Thank you," Chloe replied, with a smile. "Hey," she added gently. "He shouldn't be a dick to you, either."

Lucifer was quiet for a moment, and then he smiled. "Yes, well, I quite agree with you, but he is who he is. Dickishness is part and parcel."

"Huh, I don't remember reading that in the Bible," Chloe teased.

"Oh, check the Apocrypha," Lucifer replied, amused. "I'm sure it's in there somewhere."

"Yeah, I'll just take your word for it," Chloe said, chuckling. As it occurred to her, she asked, "So does your dad just sit up there and watch everybody, like some creepy Santa Claus?"

Lucifer looked amused. "What, 'he knows if you've been bad or good?' Well, he _can_  know what happens, but I'm not sure how much attention he pays on an individual level. There are so many of you humans, after all." Chloe looked a little relieved, until Lucifer added, "He's probably paying attention to _you_ , though, all things considered."

"Great," Chloe muttered. "Thanks for that. Now I'll never be able to shower without thinking of that."

"Well, now, that's not fair." Lucifer's protest was mostly in jest. "If my father gets to watch, then-"

"No, Lucifer."

Lucifer and Chloe talked for hours, both of them losing track of time in the process. She asked about his siblings ("Haven't seen most of them in ages. Michael - yes, _that_  Michael - keeps turning up like a bad penny, unfortunately. Raphael's not so bad, though, and Gabriel's quite amusing."), the extent of his supernatural abilities (which somehow did not devolve into a sex joke), and why he'd left Hell ("We finally got the Internet and I could see what I was missing up here.") She was pretty sure he was joking on that last one, but, really, one could never tell with Lucifer.

Finally, Chloe took a deep breath. Internally bracing herself, she said, "If you're willing to show me, I'm ready to see."

Lucifer didn't pretend not to know what she was talking about. "Are you certain, Detective?" When she nodded, he glanced toward the elevator. "Right. Make sure you have a clear path to the exit, then."

"Hey," Chloe replied, and Lucifer turned back to face her. "Do you trust me?" Lucifer's twisted little smile upon hearing the words he'd said so often to her almost broke her heart, but he nodded, unable to speak. Chloe rested a hand on his. "I'm not going anywhere, yeah?"

Lucifer nodded once more, and changed, his skin and hair replaced with the reddened, twisted skin of his other form, his eyes flaring red.

Chloe's hand quivered briefly on his, but, though her eyes widened, she made no further move. She took a deep breath, then asked, a catch in her voice, "You're really okay?"

" _You're_  asking _me_  that?" Lucifer queried in wonderment, and Chloe, hearing that his voice was the same, relaxed a little more. "Yes, Detective, I'm fine. Are _you_  quite well?"

"Yeah," Chloe replied, nodding, her eyes searching his face. An idea occurred to her and she asked, "So... Jimmy Barnes?"

Lucifer nodded grimly. "This is what he saw. Not nearly punishment enough, if you ask me."

Chloe shook her head, brows lowering. Her voice fierce, she said, "Lucifer, looking at you isn't a punishment. Don't ever think that about yourself."

Faced with such a perfect straight line, the Devil said... nothing. He looked down at Chloe's hand, still resting lightly on his, and took a deep breath. He let himself revert to the form more familiar to Chloe, the unblemished skin coming as a relief. "Why Detective," he said, his tone subdued. "I didn't know you cared."

"Well, then, you're an idiot," Chloe replied, her voice still thick with emotion.

That startled a smile out of Lucifer. "I don't suppose we could parlay that feeling into the other room?" he suggested, with a gesture toward his bedroom. Something about his manner implied that the come-on was obligatory, Lucifer defusing the emotional situation by being Lucifer, rather than an actual suggestion.

Chloe laughed, shaking her head. "No, Lucifer."

"Well, the offer's always on the table - hmm, on the table, there's a thought."

Chloe, though, wasn't going to let the conversation devolve into humor and teasing attempts at seduction. "So I guess I owe you an apology."

Lucifer drew himself up, expression startled. "You... what?"

"Yeah," Chloe replied. "I mean, you must have told me who you are... what, twenty times?"

"At least," Lucifer agreed faintly.

Chloe smiled, her gaze intent on Lucifer's. "So I'm sorry I didn't believe you." She leaned in and hugged him, cautiously at first and then with a sudden intensity.

It took Lucifer a moment to respond, his arms hovering behind Chloe's back for a moment before he gently wrapped them around her. "It's quite all right, Detective," he replied softly. "In your position, I wouldn't have believed me, either."

Chloe didn't say anything for a few moments, but then she finally eased back, with another smile for her friend and partner. "Hey, I need to get going," she said, with a hint of apology. "Mere mortals like me need sleep, especially if I'm going to be at all awake at work tomorrow." She got to her feet.

Lucifer stood as well, the better to walk her to the elevator. "Of course," he replied, with a smile.

As they passed the piano, Chloe asked, "Hey, whatever happened to Sam?"

Lucifer's brows lifted. "Sam?" he asked carefully.

Gesturing to the piano, Chloe clarified, "From the song? Did he end up back with the girl?"

Expression clearing, Lucifer replied, "Oh, no, definitely not. She had him killed."

"Huh. Not where I thought that was going." Chloe shrugged briefly, then asked, "Hey, I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

Lucifer smiled. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Lucifer sings is Sam's Last Boogie by Trout Fishing in America. Picking the song was tough! 
> 
> I will admit that I almost had Rae go to school just for the fun of the trouble she would cause, but figured she'd never stand for it. ;)


	8. The Only Begotten Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see what Azrael is up to after her precipitous departure from LA.   
> I realized when I finished this that it contains no actual Lucifer characters. My apologies for that, and I hope this is interesting enough to make up for that. We'll get back to the gang next chapter, starting out with what I hope will be an entertaining pair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Promotional consideration provided by the Quaker Oats Company and the Kia Motor Corporation. ;) 
> 
> Thanks to Christopher Moore's Lamb for the bacon.

Azrael rolled over in bed, trying not to groan aloud from the pain. She'd been pushing herself hard for the past few days, spending most of her waking hours flying in the valley behind her house. She was starting to build up muscles that this body hadn't had to use, that hadn't even been there before she had been granted her wings. She had learned the thermals and the updrafts of the valley, and the weather had cooperated enough that she'd managed to regain some of her old techniques, though others were impossible without supernatural speed and strength. The fact that all this effort left her too exhausted to do more than fall into bed at the end of the day, well, that was just a bonus. That kept her from thinking too much, something that suited her quite well.

Bacon. She smelled bacon frying, and while the house should be empty aside from herself, she was willing to face a home invasion if it involved not having to make breakfast. She heaved herself out of bed, pulled on a robe and slippers, and padded down the stairs. The robe pooled on her floor behind her; like all the clothing she'd left in the house, it was too big for her.

She paused at the foot of the stairs, considering the man in her kitchen.

Not overly tall, with broad shoulders and dark, curling hair, he had his back to her, working at the stove. He was singing. "Peace on Earth, and mercy mild. God and sinners reconciled."

"Am I supposed to be the sinner in this story?" Despite her words, she smiled. It had been too long since she'd seen him.

He turned, also smiling, his dark eyes warm. "You know you're not."

Azrael stepped to his side, leaning in for a one-armed hug. He returned the gesture, and her pain melted away. She exhaled a soft, relieved breath. "Thanks," she said, before adding teasingly, "Almost like you're the son of God or something."

"Right," he agreed, with a laugh. "Because there's only one of _those._ " He glanced down at her feet, noting the Killer Rabbit slippers. "Nice," he approved, amused.

Azrael grinned back at him, then considered the bacon that her brother had almost finished cooking. "Thought this was against the rules," she observed. "Mm, but defiance tastes so good."

"I'm pretty sure that was a misunderstanding. Dad can't have thought bacon was that big a deal." He paused. "Except turkey bacon. Turkey bacon is a sin against Dad."

"Why isn't actual, non-turkey bacon a sin, because it tastes good?" Azrael shrugged, though there was a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Probably for the best, though. Everything really would have gotten out of hand if you guys had had _bacon_."

Her brother waved a set of tongs at her in mock threat. "Make yourself useful and get the eggs." Despite his words, his tone was fond.

She didn't move. "Josh, what are you doing here?"

He smiled at the nickname. She was the only one of his siblings who called him that; it was the name he'd been using that time she'd found him surfing Holualoa Bay, and she'd taken to it. _Isn't that cheating?_ she'd asked. _After all, you can walk on water._

"Making breakfast," he replied simply. "You haven't been eating enough, especially not for all the flying you've been doing."

Azrael folded her arms across her chest, and Josh managed not to smile. The gesture would have been effective in her usual form, particularly with that look in her eyes, but was just cute in her current incarnation. He resisted the urge to pat her head, knowing how well _that_ would go over. "Have you been watching me?" she asked. When he shrugged an affirmative, she sighed. "I don't even have any eggs." She paused. "Though I don't recall having bacon, either."

Josh waved his fingers in a pseudo-mystical gesture. "You do now."

Shaking her head, Azrael moved to the fridge to get the eggs and noted that somewhat more food was there than had been there when she'd gone to sleep, though the fridge was not overly full. Curious, she opened a cabinet, which was also newly stocked. She pulled out a box of Life cereal and showed it to her brother. "Seriously? Life?"

Josh looked over, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "I couldn't resist the irony. I mean, what other cereal are you going to eat?"

Returning the cereal, Azrael shook her head. "Ha, ha, the Angel of Death eats Life... except -" She hesitated, then said it. "That's not me, Josh. I'm not the Angel of Death. Not anymore. Maybe not ever. You have to know that." It hurt to say it.

"Just for now," Josh reassured. When Azrael turned her skeptical gaze on him, he added, "Really."

Azrael managed a smile. With a nod toward the refrigerator, she added, "You shouldn't have done all that. Not for me."

"Why not for you?" Josh asked. "And anyway, we're not talking loaves and fishes, here, sis. Even in this back of beyond, they do have such things as grocery stores."

Choosing to ignore the question, Azrael asked, "Scrambled?" At her brother's nod, she started cracking eggs with a little more focus than such a task required, head bowed over her work. Handing over the bowl with the egg mixture - she had added the appropriate seasonings, of course - she smiled. "Thanks."

Azrael put the last of the food on the table and seated herself. Her brother extended his hands and, after a moment, she took them and closed her eyes. "Hi, Dad," Josh began conversationally. "We'd like to thank you for this meal and the hands that put it here, particularly Betty on register two at the Shop and Sack. That two-for-one coupon came in handy." Azrael cracked one eye to peer at her brother, but he continued serenely, "Help Rae to accept that you have a plan and that she is a part of it, even though I know she's probably rolling her eyes right now." She was, as much as one could roll one's eyes while they were closed. "Help her to know that you're not just fucking with her -"

Here, Azrael opened her eyes and interrupted, "Josh, I don't think you can say 'fucking' in a prayer."

He ignored her, and she closed her eyes again as he continued. "Help her accept that your ways are ineffable, but will reveal themselves in time - or maybe not. Who are we kidding? This _is_ you we're talking about, after all. But you do have your reasons, whether or not you choose to reveal them to us, your children. In your name we pray. Amen."

"Amen," Azrael echoed, with a quiet sigh. Josh squeezed her hands gently and let go; she started dishing up the food, then said slowly, "I know I'm part of his plan. We all are. I'm just not sure if that's a good thing, you know? I mean, look what he did to you, and he likes you."

"He likes you, too, Rae," Josh replied. Seeing his sister's look of skepticism, he added, with emphasis, "He does."

Azrael shook her head, her expression wry. She didn't want to argue with her brother, so she said only, "He has a funny way of showing it."

Josh nodded, his expression sympathetic. "You're right," he agreed, offering the basket of biscuits.

Azrael took the basket, with a murmur of thanks, but then cast a look of amused suspicion at her brother. " _Hoc est corpus meum_?"

Josh sighed. "It's just a biscuit, Rae. Not everything is symbolic. Sometimes you really read too much into things."

Azrael shrugged amiably. "In this family, you never know." She took a biscuit and carefully broke it apart before slathering on the butter. "I don't take communion at Mass," she added conversationally. "It feels a little weird. I told them I wasn't baptized."

"It wasn't weird that first time," Josh offered. "I just sort of went with it. And, hey, I'm sure John would have been happy to baptize you, back in the day."

Azrael shook her head, with a quick smile. "That would have gone well, I'm sure." Realization struck, and she said, "Wish I'd known you were coming. I would have baked a cake."

"Come on," Josh replied sheepishly. "You know it's not really my birthday."

Azrael eyed Josh with amusement. "Of course. But with all the humans who think it's today, that's a perfect excuse for cake. I mean, not that we need an excuse for cake. Oh - I've been taking kind of a poll. If I _did_ make you a cake, would you want it to be angel food or devil's food?"

"Why do I think there's an obvious answer to this question?" Josh asked, laughing.

Shaking her head, Azrael replied teasingly, "It's just cake, Josh. Not everything is symbolic."

Josh made a face at his sister, then pondered his answer. "Pie," he said finally.

"That was not one of the options!" Azrael objected, though she looked amused.

Josh shrugged, scooping up the last of his eggs. "It's _my_ not-birthday. I should get to choose the hypothetical celebratory baked goods, and I choose pie."

Azrael pondered the response and then nodded. "Okay, pie," she conceded. "As long as it's not apple."

"Well, of course not apple."

* * *

 

The pie remained hypothetical, despite Azrael's suggestion that they go to the Shop and Sack to get the rest of the needed supplies. Josh insisted that he didn't actually need not-birthday celebratory baked goods, especially not with ice cream in the freezer; Azrael was amused, but not surprised, that he'd bought Death By Chocolate ice cream.

The two siblings spent the day together, sometimes talking - Josh let Azrael shy away from the difficult topics, though his occasional knowing look made it clear that he was aware of what she was doing - and sometimes just sitting in peaceful silence.

When the sky had gone fully dark, Josh suggested, "Want to go for a drive?"

Azrael nodded agreeably at the suggestion and moved to her closet. "Do you have a coat?" she asked, not without a sigh for the size of the coat she pulled out for herself. She had not planned for this tiny human body when she'd stocked this place. "It gets pretty cold out here at night."

"I'll be okay," Josh replied with a smile. Still the big sister, despite her size. "Watch the weather here, though. Betty at the Shop and Sack said that storms can blow up pretty quickly."

Azrael grabbed a blanket from the back of her couch. "Just in case you get cold."

The two headed out the door. Azrael briefly considered locking the door behind her, but then gave it up as unnecessary. She crossed behind the white crossover but paused at the bumper. "You're driving a Soul?" she asked, brows lifting. "Seriously?"

Josh grinned. "I didn't ask for it. Roy at the rental place picked it for me. Easier to cart the groceries."

"Sure," Azrael replied, amused.

"You want to drive?" Josh queried, adding teasingly, "You're older, after all."

Azrael shook her head as she got in the passenger side and buckled her seat belt. "Nah, go ahead." She shot a sidelong look at him, adding with a sly grin, "Take the wheel."

"Were _you_ the one who spread that song around the Silver City?" Josh demanded.

"Song?" Azrael echoed, unable to keep back her smile.

Josh started up the car, carefully easing onto the narrow road and heading farther up the mountain. Clearly not fooled by Azrael, he observed, "You know, Gabriel sang it to me every time he saw me for six months."

"Six months, huh?" Azrael replied. "Wow, his stamina's really flagging. Time was, he would have kept it up for a decade." She dissolved into laughter, leaning against the passenger-side door.

Josh shook his head, then offered, with a sly grin of his own, "You know, we all loved the play."

Azrael stopped laughing. "What?"

"Yeah. You guys were so _cute_." His tone held nothing but amused sincerity. "And Gabriel thought it was hysterical that the little sheep's name was Michael. He's been baa-ing at brother Michael ever since."

"Okay," Azrael said slowly, some of the horror leaving her expression. "On one hand, Gabe is never, ever going to let me forget this -"

"No, he's not," Josh agreed, laughing.

"- but the thought of him baa-ing at Michael... that's almost worth the humiliation. How pissed off is Michael?"

" _So_ pissed off," Josh replied, trying unsuccessfully not to look amused. "There aren't words for how pissed off he is." He drove in silence for a moment, then added, very quietly, "It's _awesome_." Josh pulled the car off the road, into a clearing, and turned off the car. "Oh, and that baby who played me? Really cute."

"She is," Azrael agreed, as she got out of the car. "She's the sheep's baby sister."

"Ha, that's appropriate," Josh said, getting out of the car and, after a moment, pulling out the blanket. "That was really progressive of your church, though, taking gender out of the picture. One of the Kings was a girl, too, right?" As Azrael followed, puzzled, he spread the blanket on the ground and stretched out in it, the mountain behind his head.

"I don't think it was intentional," Azrael observed, easing herself to to the ground next to her brother. "They were just short on kids."

Josh pillowed his head on his folded arms. "I saw this production of _Jesus Christ Superstar_ in Chicago last year where they didn't pay any attention to gender. I was a girl, and so was Judas. It was really good." Hearing Azrael's sigh, he asked, "What?"

"That show was too easy on Judas, that's all," Azrael said quietly, stretching out and squinting at the sky.

Josh let out a quiet murmur of understanding. "What he did, Rae-"

"No," Azrael interrupted sharply. "Josh, please don't defend him. I would have killed him myself, if I could have."

"Well, if anyone has the right to defend him..." Josh began, but Azrael let out a quiet huff, her stubbornness on the subject nearly palpable, and so he subsided, saying only, "I appreciate the thought."

"Thank you," Azrael replied stiffly. The two sat in silence for a few moments, and then Azrael offered, an obvious change from one awkward topic to another, "So when you said you _all_ loved the play..."

"I don't know if Dad saw it," Josh replied. "He wasn't with the rest of us."

Azrael, with a small shiver, pulled the rest of the blanket over the two of them. "What am I looking at, anyway?"

"Just give your eyes time to adjust," Josh replied quietly. "Not quite sure when it's happening."

Azrael looked up at the sky once more. This far from any major population, the darkness was absolute. The Pleiades in particular caught her attention for a moment, but her thoughts distracted her from the lovely sky. "Did Dad send you?" she asked, dropping into the language of angels. It was easier to ask these questions in the dark, where she couldn't see her brother's pity, and easier to speak them in her mother-tongue.

Josh replied in the same language, his tone fond. "Yes. But I would have come even if he hadn't."

Azrael smiled, though Josh couldn't see her face. "Thanks. Does... does he want me to come home?"

Josh didn't answer for a long moment. "No," he said. "Not yet, at least."

"Oh. I'd thought, since Michael was all set to bring me home..."

Azrael had tried to keep the disappointment from her voice, but of course Josh heard. He fumbled for her hand, giving it a squeeze. "He's not upset with you, Rae," he said gently. "You're just not done here yet."

"No, it's okay," Azrael replied, exhaling a soft sigh. "I mean, it's not like it's bad here. It's just the not knowing of it all. What does he want me to do?"

"You know I can't tell you that," Josh replied regretfully.

Sounding a little exasperated, Azrael replied, "Won't I be able to accomplish more if I know what he wants?"

Josh shifted on the blanket. "You'll do what he wants either way, sis."

Azrael closed her eyes. It was only a little darker that way, but she felt better. "I know, Josh. I just meant-" She cut off her words with a sigh, sounding defeated as she asked, "Why did he send you?"

"He wants you to go back to LA." Azrael sat up, a protest on her lips, and Josh tugged gently on her arm, "You're going to miss it," he urged. "Look, I can take you back tonight, but Dad said you can wait if you'd rather."

Azrael eased back to the blanket, eyes flicking skyward. Voice carefully even, she replied, "I'm not quite ready, if it's really okay that I wait." When Josh murmured an assent, she added, "I need to be by myself. Just for a little while. I mean, I've been dealing with humans since the beginning, but not... like this. Sometimes I just..." She sighed once more, frustrated with her inability to explain just why she was struggling. 

"Hey, you don't have to explain yourself to me," Josh replied gently. "Oh - did you see it?" A meteor streaked across the sky, followed after a moment by a second. "Not as good as the Perseids, but it's something."

"I saw," Azrael replied, her eyes on the sky. "Thanks Josh."

"Hey," her brother said softly. "It'll all work out in the end, Rae. It'll be okay. Try to remember that."

"I'll try." Pulling her share of the blanket a little closer, Azrael settled in to watch in silence. She had her doubts that it would all be okay - for her, at least - but right now was okay. She'd focus on right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there was no meteor shower on Christmas. Shh. ;) The Latin is "This is my body."


	9. The Orchid Mantis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trixie goes to the one person she thinks should know Azrael's whereabouts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was intended as part of the next chapter, but it felt like it was all getting to be too long, so I broke it up. I also wanted to see what tomorrow's episode brings before posting the next section.

Trixie was worried.

It had been almost a week since she'd heard from Rae. That they'd lost their SnapChat streak was bad enough, but she hadn't heard _anything_ from her friend. No texts, no posts to her Instagram, no FaceChat. Not even a phone call. Nothing.

Her mother had said that Lucifer didn't know where Rae was, and Trixie believed her; she knew Lucifer never lied, so he definitely didn't know. Her mother had smiled when she'd said it, but when she thought Trixie wasn't looking, she'd looked worried.

When Trixie had asked Maze if she knew where Rae was, the demon - demon, _so cool_ \- had shrugged and said she didn't know. "Sometimes she takes off," Maze had added carelessly. "She's fine."

But Trixie wasn't sure.

She'd asked her dad to keep an ear out at the precinct, and he'd actually let Trixie see him look concerned, in a way the other adults hadn't. It had made her want to tell him that Rae was an angel and was _probably_ okay, but she knew that her mom was right, that it wasn't her secret. And then her dad hadn't found out anything, so Trixie had decided to take matters into her own hands. After school, once she'd heard Maze's shower start, she'd put her plan into action and gone to find the one person who _should_ know where Rae was.

Trixie peered through the front window of Richards and Wheeler. Finally, the man at the front desk stepped away, and she hurried through the door. It took a little searching, but eventually she found the right office.

Trixie was a little afraid of Rae's mom, but _her_ mom said that being brave was being scared of something but doing it anyway. Her mom had been talking about flu shots, but it was basically the same thing.

Vowing to be brave for her friend, Trixie stepped quietly into the office. She watched Rae's mom for a moment; the woman was reading something on her laptop.

Finally, Trixie could stand it no longer and said, "Excuse me? Rae's mom?"

Charlotte looked up from the computer, brows furrowed in irritation. "What are you doing here?" Looking a little closer, she added, "You're Azrael's little bug, aren't you?"

Taking the woman's words as invitation, Trixie came closer. "I'm Beatrice, but everybody calls me Trixie. If I was going to be a bug, I'd be an orchid mantis. We learned about them in school. They're pink and they look like flowers, and the girls are way bigger than the boys." She grinned engagingly. "Sometimes the girls _eat_ the boys."

"Bloodthirsty little thing, aren't you?" Rae's mom observed, though not without a hint of approval.

"I just think it's cool that you can look right at it, and you wouldn't know it was there," Trixie observed. "You'd just think it was a pretty flower." Lolling against the desk, she asked, "Where's Rae?"

"That was my idea," Charlotte said, preening a little. At the mention of her daughter, she peered at Trixie in some confusion. "I don't know. Have you tried asking Lucifer?"

"Lucifer doesn't know," Trixie replied seriously. "But _you_ should. You're her mom, and moms are supposed to know where their kids are."

Nettled, the tall woman asked, "Does your mother know where _you_ are?" When Trixie didn't answer, instead studying her pink Chuck Taylors, Charlotte said briskly, "I didn't think so." Perhaps it was Mom Solidarity, or maybe it was the desire to rid herself of her small intruder, but she picked up her phone, saying, "Let's just call down to the precinct and let her know..."

Trixie was pretty sure that Big Trouble was likely in the cards for her when her mother found out what she'd done, and she wanted to put it off for as long as possible. Thinking fast, she asked, "Are you an angel, too?" Since she'd found out that angels were real, Trixie had been looking for more. She was pretty sure Rae's mom wasn't one - angels were supposed to be nice, right? - but she had suspicions about one of the kindergarten teachers at her school.

Rae's mom slowly put down the phone. When she spoke, her voice was very quiet, and it had a dangerous note that made Trixie nervous. "What are you talking about, little bug?"

Possibly, Trixie thought, she should have opted for her mother's version of Big Trouble, rather than what she currently faced. She swallowed. "Mommy said not to tell, that it's not our secret, but you're Rae's mom! You know, right?"

"And Mommy knows, too," Charlotte murmured. Turning her gaze back to Trixie, she said, "Of course I know. I'm her mother. But I'm curious how _you_ know. Azrael wasn't supposed to tell anyone."

"Is Rae in trouble?" Trixie asked, eyes wide.

"Not with me," Charlotte replied, with a smile that had a little too many teeth to be all that reassuring. "Maybe with her father, though. He does tend to overreact. But how do you know about Azrael?" Trixie hesitated and Charlotte insisted, her voice sharp, "Answer me."

Trixie did not want to tell, but, looking at Charlotte, she couldn't really think of an alternative. "I saw her wings," she admitted. Peeking cautiously at Charlotte, she added, "They're really pretty. Rae said she can fly, and I wanted to see, but it's been almost a week. She was supposed to come over on Sunday after church and she didn't text or anything."

Charlotte made a wry face at the mention of church, but then cast a look of consideration at this tiny source of information. "Her wings," she repeated softly, a much more genuine smile warming her face. "Oh, my sweet girl." Looking back to Trixie, her gaze sharpened. "A week? And Lucifer doesn't know where she's gone?"

Trixie shook her head dolefully. "That's what my mommy said."

"Well, let's find out for sure." Charlotte picked up her phone once more and dialed a number. It took a little time for a response, and her brows lowered. Finally, she spoke. "Lucifer, it's your mother."

Trixie listened shamelessly. Charlotte didn't seem to mind, and continued speaking. "Where is your sister? I've heard that she hasn't been in contact for almost a week." Charlotte frowned at Lucifer's response, replying after a moment, "Lucifer, you didn't have to say that."

Trixie edged around the desk, trying to hear, but she could not catch the other side of the conversation.

Charlotte sighed, shaking her head, "You don't _sound_ sure. You sound worried, and the little bug is worried, too. You do remember that Azrael can be injured, yes? Thanks to your father."

After a moment of listening to Lucifer, Charlotte turned her gaze on Trixie, who scooted back to the other size of the desk. "It says it's an orchid mantis." Trixie beamed at that, and Charlotte continued, "Actually, it's Detective Decker's offspring, but apparently-" She stopped speaking, and Trixie could hear Lucifer's voice as he spoke more loudly, though she couldn't understand his words. She thought she heard her name.

When Charlotte spoke once more, her voice was smooth and soothing. "Why would I do that, son? She came here to my office to see if I knew where Azrael is." Charlotte paused a moment, and there was something in her voice that Trixie didn't understand as she continued. "As your father sent her to you, I assumed that you would know, but clearly you don't."

After a few moments of silence, Charlotte's cool gaze flicked back to Trixie, but it was to her son that she spoke. "Lucifer, what are you implying?" A petulant expression crossed her face as she listened to Lucifer, and then replied, "Very well, son. But what about your sister? It sounds like you're more concerned about-"

Again, it sounded like Lucifer was interrupting his mother. Trixie wondered at that; her own mother was not a fan of being interrupted. It looked as if Rae's mother felt the same, as she looked rather irritated. "Keep me posted about Azrael," she concluded, before disconnecting the call.

Turning to Trixie, Charlotte considered the girl for a moment. "My son has asked that I send you to Lux," she said, still looking a little annoyed. "I'll have my assistant take care of the details, but I suggest you get a Cosmo when you get there. Amenadiel - that's Lucifer's brother - particularly likes them. And you'll probably enjoy the color."

Trixie nodded agreeably, settling in to wait as Charlotte called her assistant, the man from the front desk, into the room. He looked puzzled as to how Trixie had gotten into the office, but was amenable to taking charge of her. His boss had certainly asked him to do weirder things, after all. As she trailed along behind the tall man, Charlotte called smoothly after her, "Little bug? Be sure to tell your father I said hello."


	10. The Penthouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Chloe deal with a number of visitors to the penthouse at Lux.

Lucifer and Chloe made their way up to the penthouse at Lux. They were in a holding pattern on their current case, a particularly grisly double-murder involving a pair of high school students, and Lucifer had coaxed Chloe to Lux. "We might as well wait in comfort, Detective," he'd urged, and Chloe, for once, had agreed.

Stepping through the elevator doors, Chloe asked, "Have you heard from Rae?"

"No," Lucifer replied as he followed Chloe. He strode over to the bar and poured himself a drink. "Know it's a bit early for you," he said, with a nod to his glass. "Feel free to grab something from the kitchen. I do have drinks without alcohol, though I know that's a stretch."

"I'm shocked," Chloe teased, though she did make her way into the kitchen. She came back with a bottle of water, shaking her head at the expensive brand. "About your sister," she began, though not without some hesitation.

Looking a little embarrassed, Lucifer admitted, "Miss Lopez actually cornered me about her this morning while you and Daniel were harassing that science teacher."

"We weren't harassing her," Chloe protested. "We were... you know what, never mind. What did Ella say? It'd be good to have something to tell Trixie."

Lucifer shook his head as he crossed to the couch. "Apparently Maze took her off somewhere. I texted Maze to find out where they went, but she didn't answer. I asked Miss Lopez to track Rae's phone, but she had no luck." He paused a moment, then admitted, "Miss Lopez said Rae was upset after... everything that happened the night of the play. I must admit that I noticed something similar."

Chloe frowned a little, asking, "Was she upset that Trixie and I found out? She did seem a little rattled."

Lucifer shrugged. "I have no idea. She wouldn't talk to me about it - actually lied and said she was okay, if you can believe that."

Chloe chuckled. "Yeah, because you're so open and honest about _your_ feelings." She hummed quietly, adding, "Maze was just coming back from a job. She should be home now, though. She was looking after Trixie after school today."

Lucifer nodded his thanks, though not without a wry smile for the mention of feelings, but his phone rang before he could call Maze. "Mum," he said, with a look of annoyance. After a long moment during which he visibly considered not answering, he accepted the call. "Yes?" Trying not to sigh too heavily, he replied, "Yes, I know. Your name popped up on my screen. What do you want?"

Chloe moved to the entrance to the balcony, giving him the semblance of privacy, and Lucifer said, "I don't know, Mum. You know how she is - or do you? It's been a while, after all." He added to Chloe, a little more quietly, "She wants to know where Rae is as well."

Chloe made a vaguely affirmative noise, and Lucifer continued, a bit uneasily, "Yes, well, sometimes she does this. I'm sure she's fine."

Lucifer shifted on the couch. Sounding exasperated, he said, "Of course I remember." After a fractional pause, he added, confused, "Little... bug? What sort of bug? Did you happen to eat any special mushrooms lately?"

Chloe listened despite herself, attention caught by the strangeness of Lucifer's words.

When Lucifer spoke again, his voice was louder, sharp with concern. "Beatrice? What is she doing there? Where are you? Mother, I swear, if you've done something to her..."

Chloe was at Lucifer's side almost before she'd thought to move. "Trixie?" she stage whispered, grabbing at Lucifer's arm. "Lucifer, what's going on?"

Lucifer held up one finger to Chloe, shaking his head as he spoke, tone firm. "No. Look, I'm - no, it'd take too much time. Just put Beatrice in a cab and send her to Lux." There was a brief pause as he listened, and then he replied tartly, "Mother, I know how you feel about humanity, and I'd be much happier with Beatrice *away* from your company."

He listened once more and then said crisply, "I'll handle it. Cab, Mother. Now, if you please."

Lucifer ended the phone call and Chloe demanded, "Is Trixie with your mother?"

Lucifer nodded, looking troubled. "Apparently your offspring took it upon herself to go to my mother's office in search of information about Azrael."

"Maze is supposed to be watching her," Chloe replied, frustrated. "Are you sure putting her in a taxi was the right call? I can go get her."

Shaking his head, Lucifer said, "Best to get her away from Mum as soon as possible. I don't think my mother would harm Beatrice," he was quick to say, "but she's not the best influence, especially not for a small human." At the mention of Maze, he sent off a quick text.

Chloe nodded, though she still looked upset. "I knew she was worried about Rae, but I never thought she'd do something like this." With a frown, she added, "She's supposed to go to Dan's tonight. I'll have him come here to get her."

"Well, children push boundaries as they grow," Lucifer observed. "Or so I'm told." His phone rang, and, with a murmur of apology, he took the call. "Yes, Patrick? What? No. Definitely not." He listened for a moment, and his expression grew intrigued. "Really?" he purred. "Yes, go ahead. Send them up. Oh, and young Beatrice is on her way as well. Have someone watch for her, and send her up as soon as she arrives." He ended the call and tucked the phone away. "Detective, I have a distraction," he announced. "Patrick is sending up the priest from St. Brennan's, as well as the young man who kissed my sister after that ridiculous play."

"Wait, what?" Chloe queried, looking both startled and amused.

Lucifer grinned. "Kissed her right in the vestibule. Of course, she's not interested, but I have to admire the chap. Amenadiel and I were right there, and Amenadiel had been doing that looming thing he does so well. Cheeky little bastard." He seemed torn between his amused admiration and his desire to protect his sister.

Chloe had to smile at his expression, a tiny bit of her worry displaced. If nothing else, this would give her something to think about while she waited for Trixie's arrival. Traffic being what it was, that could take a while.

The elevator doors opened, and Chloe recognized the young priest she had avoided after Azrael's revelation, as well as the boy who had played Joseph in the play.

"Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Morningstar," the priest said, approaching Lucifer with his hand extended. "Father Joe Callahan, from St. Brennan's."

Lucifer ignored both the greeting and the outstretched hand, instead focusing on the boy. "Jack, I'd been meaning to track you down."

The boy, who had been gaping at the penthouse, turned to Lucifer with a rather wary expression. "Me? Why?"

"Well, clearly you need some pointers," Lucifer replied, with a charming smile. "And I'd be happy to share my experience with you - provided you don't then attempt to use your knowledge on my sister."

"Lucifer -" Chloe began, shaking her head and offering a look of apology to the priest, but Lucifer steamrolled ahead.

"First off, you need a proper venue if you're looking for some action, and a church is only good for the post-coital self-flagellation you people seem to love. Not that flagellation is necessarily a bad thing, mind, but I've always found it more interesting _during_ , rather than after -"

" _Lucifer_!" Chloe looked ready to drag Lucifer away from Jack, though the boy's look of horrified fascination didn't really make it clear whether or not he'd welcome an end to the conversation.

"Detective, I'm helping," Lucifer protested. "His technique is all wrong; he's never going to -"

"No," Chloe said firmly. Turning back to the priest, who was clearly torn between shock and embarrassment, she said, "I'm so sorry about that. I'm Chloe Decker. Can I help you somehow?"

Father Joe, looking a bit rattled, shook her hand. "Nice to meet you. Didn't I see you after the play?"

Nodding, Chloe replied, "My daughter and I came to see Lucifer's sister."

A look of relief crossed the priest's face at the segue. "Yes," he said. "Rae. Such a lovely girl, though she has some interesting ideas, theologically speaking."

"I'll just bet she does," Lucifer muttered, with a smirk.

Casting a quelling look at her partner, Chloe said, "Is there something we can do for you?"

Gathering his composure, Father Joe said, "Yes, it's about Rae. She wasn't at Mass on Sunday. She'd also said that she would help out playing piano for choir practice last night, since Mrs. Jenkins had to visit her sister in Sedona, but she never came. She's been so reliable... we wanted to make sure that she's all right." With a little frown, he added, "I tried calling downstairs, but they wouldn't put me through."

Lucufer made a mental note to find out who had turned down the call and give that person a raise.

"Is she mad?" Jack asked, his unsure gaze finally landing briefly on Lucifer. "Because of what I... you know."

Lucifer clapped the boy on the shoulder. "Oh, it's not your fault. The kiss wasn't that bad." After a moment of thoughtful hesitation, he amended, "Well, no, it was, but I'm sure that's not why she's gone."

Father Joe frowned. "She's gone?" he echoed. "So it's not just that she didn't come to church?"

Jack, not looking especially reassured by Lucifer's words, turned to Chloe as the person least likely to discuss his love life, or lack thereof. "Somebody came to the church looking for Rae, after the play was over," he told her, clearly worried. "She seemed... angry."

Chloe, after a look at Lucifer, went into detective mode. "Did she tell you her name?"

Jack shook his head.

Lucifer, frowning, said, "But Rae left Miss Lopez's house with Maze. Whoever this mysterious angry woman is, she can't have gotten past Maze."

Father Joe listened with some concern. "Jack came and told me what happened, after the woman left. When Rae didn't come to choir practice, we thought you should know."

"Thank you," Chloe said to the priest, before turning her attention to Jack once more. "What did she look like?"

The boy, after a vaguely guilty look toward his priest, gave a stammering, careful description of Maze that nonetheless managed to convey both her identity and his impression of her.

"It's okay," Chloe told Jack with a smile. "We know who she is, but thanks for coming and telling us what happened."

"Who is she?" Jack asked, trailing behind Father Joe as the priest crossed to Lucifer.

"Oh, she's a bounty hunter," Lucifer replied, and then he choked on a laugh as Jack promptly tripped over a chair.

Father Joe, frowning, said to Lucifer, "You don't seem all that concerned with your sister's absence, Mr. Morningstar. Have her parents been informed that she's missing?"

"Not that it's your business, Padre, but I just spoke with my mother on that very subject," Lucifer said tartly. "As for dear old Dad, I'm sure he knows where she is. Not that he cares."

"Well, as your sister is one of my parishioners, it _is_ my business," Father Joe replied, though his tone remained calm. "Have you contacted the police?"

Chloe, seeing from Lucifer's manner that his temper was fraying, started to steer the priest toward the exit. "I'm actually a detective with the LAPD," she assured him. "We really are worried about Rae, and we're working on bringing her back."

A little mollified, Father Joe pushed the button for the elevator, gesturing for Jack to to join him. Pausing at the elevator, the priest said, "We'll be praying for Rae."

As the elevator doors closed, Jack could be heard to ask, "Father Joe, what's flagellation?"

Lucifer made a noise of disgust at the mention of prayer as the elevator doors slid shut. "Fat lot of good that will do them," he scoffed. "But well done, Maze! Corrupting an altar boy *and* diverting his attention from my sister."

"Do you really think your father knows where she is?" Chloe queried.

Lucifer nodded, though his expression was wry. "Assuming he's paying attention. She's never exactly been his priority."

Chloe regarded Lucifer for a long moment, weighing whether to say it. She took a deep breath. "You could ask him."

"No." Lucifer's tone brooked no argument.

Chloe visibly considered pushing the issue anyway, but something about Lucifer's manner suggested that this would not be a good idea. "Fine," she said. "Then I will." Should she fold her hands? Kneel? Knowing that doing either of those things would make her feel stupid, she strode out to the balcony, ignoring Lucifer's derisive snort.

"He's not going to answer."

Chloe took a deep breath and addressed the sky. "Hi. It's Chloe... but I guess you know that." With a nervous, awkward chuckle, she continued, "We've lost track of your daughter Rae, and we'd really appreciate it if you could point us in the right direction to find her. She's a great kid - uh, ageless celestial being - and we miss her, especially my little girl." She paused a moment, listening, trying to wrap her head around the fact that she'd just  _prayed._ It was somehow easier to imagine she was addressing Lucifer's father rather than some deity... even though they were the same guy. 

Still inside the penthouse, Lucifer repeated, now in singsong, "He's not going to answer, Detective."

"And speaking of kids," Chloe continued, "While your son is currently acting like a particularly annoying five year-old, he deserves better than you've been treating him. All your kids do - at least, the ones I've met. You need to step up and be a better parent." Chloe hesitated, unsure how to finish and turned to see Lucifer watching her, his eyes soft, his mockery gone. Chloe took a breath to speak, but then the elevator dinged, announcing an arrival.

The two of them turned, startled. Had the prayer actually been answered?

"Lucifer!" Trixie darted out of the elevator and flung herself at the Devil, clinging to his waist. Looking up at him, she added, "Your mom is weird."

"Quite," Lucifer agreed with a grimace, holding his hands up so that he wouldn't inadvertently touch the child.

"Trixie!" Chloe rushed in from the balcony and Trixie prudently put Lucifer between herself and her mother, her small hands clutching the back of his jacket.

"Easy on the Armani," Lucifer protested.

Chloe knelt to put herself closer to eye-level with Trixie, ignoring Lucifer's sudden grin at her proximity. The Devil edged to the side, leaving Trixie to face her mother and trying to avoid the girl's look of betrayal.

"Trixie, what were you thinking?" Chloe asked, her voice calm but her worry evident. "You can't just walk out of the house like that and not tell anybody."

Lucifer, moving to pour himself a drink, queried, "However did you get past Maze?"

Trixie regarded her mother for a moment, then looked over to Lucifer. "I waited until she was in the shower," she replied, subdued.

Lucifer nodded as he took a drink. "Did you consider her reaction when she realized you were gone?" he asked casually. "Maze is a good friend to have, but you really don't want to get on her bad side. Well, actually," he added, with a brief grin, "She doesn't have a bad side, but the point remains."

Trixie had, in fact, not thought beyond getting to Rae's mom and getting answers. Now she had no answers, was probably in Big Trouble, and had likely upset Maze.

Chloe, seeing the realization hit her daughter, said gently, "Monkey, why did you go see Charlotte Richards?" She stood and guided her daughter to the couch, sitting with Trixie next to her.

"Nobody's doing anything about Rae being gone," Trixie replied, blinking back tears. "I thought her mom might know where she was."

"Beatrice, my sister really can look after herself," Lucifer offered, swirling his drink and peering into the glass. "You do recall that she's an angel, yes? She does know her way around the world. And, well, she's not exactly used to staying just in one place."

Trixie nodded. "But that's a secret," she said miserably. "Most people think she's a kid, and sometimes people... take kids. What if somebody took Rae, like what happened to me?"

"Oh, Monkey," Chloe breathed, slipping an arm around Trixie and hugging her close.

Trixie burrowed against her mother, hiccupping back a sob.

"Beatrice, I assure you that Malcolm Graham is experiencing his own personal torment in Hell," Lucifer said seriously.

Chloe shook her head at Lucifer, mouthing, "Not helping." To her daughter, she reassured, "What Lucifer means is that Malcom can't hurt you, baby."

"I know," Trixie replied, her voice ragged. "I'm not worried about me, Mommy. But can you and Lucifer look for Rae? Please?" Her voice broke on the last word, and even Lucifer looked concerned at the state of the usually even-keeled little girl.

"Of course," Chloe replied, hugging Trixie once more. "Baby, you should have told me that you were so worried."

The elevator dinged, then opened to release Maze. The demon stalked into the penthouse, clearly furious. She moved to stand before Chloe and Trixie, but her anger faded a notch when she saw the state Trixie was in. "Why are you crying?" she demanded. Turning to Lucifer, she repeated, "Why is she crying? Did your bitch of a mother hurt her? I can take your mother."

"While I really would be interested to see that play out, Mum is not responsible for this... damp unpleasantness," Lucifer replied.

Chloe gently rubbed Trixie's back. "She's just worried about Rae," she explained.

"Maze, I'm sorry I left while you were in the shower." Trixie sniffled, adding plaintively, "Will you help Mommy and Lucifer find Rae?"

Maze frowned at the question and slanted a look at Lucifer. At his nod, she replied, "Sure, little human. I can help."

Trixie offered the demon a tremulous smile. "Thanks, Maze."

Lucifer shook his head, expression thoughtful. Turning to Maze, he said, "She's been gone for far longer in the past, of course, but with her current vulnerability..." He shrugged, adding, "You're the last to have seen her, as far as we know."

Chloe said to Maze, "The priest from St. Brennan's was here today, with that boy Jack. They said you came to the church looking for Rae."

"Apparently you made quite the impression," Lucifer quipped.

Maze started to reply, but closed her mouth when she caught sight of Trixie watching her. Before anyone could press Maze for further information, the elevator dinged again.

"I'm getting more people going in and out of here than they get at LAX," Lucifer exaggerated, with some exasperation. "And not in the fun way."

The doors opened and Dan stepped into the penthouse. He took in the situation at a glance and his expression shifted from vaguely annoyed to concerned. "What's going on?"

Chloe eased away from her daughter with a soothing murmur, then motioned for Dan to join her on the balcony for a more private explanation.

After a moment in which nobody was quite looking at anybody else, Maze sat down next to Trixie. "I'm sorry," the little girl repeated preemptively.

"You should be," Maze replied, her voice clipped.

Lucifer considered the two occupants of the couch, then tossed back the rest of his drink and moved to join them. "Right," he said, sitting in the chair across from the couch. "What would Dr. Linda say here?" Maze regarded him, one skeptical eyebrow raised, and Lucifer addressed her. "You're upset that the little hellion ran off on your watch, yes?"

"No," Maze replied promptly. She met Lucifer's steady gaze for a moment, then looked away, finally admitting reluctantly, "Maybe."

Lucifer turned to Trixie, brows lifted. "What do you think is an appropriate response? After all, you know you shouldn't have acted as you did."

Trixie cast a quick, sidelong look at Maze before turning to Lucifer. Negotiation time. "I could do the dishes?" she suggested. Looking between the Devil and his demon, she amended, "For a week?"

Maze hesitated for long enough that Trixie started to squirm. "Two weeks," she countered.

"Deal," Trixie said, extending a hand. Maze completed the handshake, though not without a murmur about deals being Lucifer's thing, and the little girl smiled. "Can I have a Cosmo?"

"What? No," Chloe said, as she and Dan returned to the room just in time to catch their daughter's question and the beginning of Lucifer's affirmative response. Ignoring Trixie's sigh, she leaned down to hug her daughter, saying, "Time to go, Monkey. Daddy's going to take you back to his place, and I'm going to come by later so we can all talk about what happened today."

Trixie cast a quick look between Lucifer and Maze.

"No need, Detective," Lucifer said brightly. "Maze and I sorted all that. I'm quite good at this, as it turns out."

Chloe managed not to roll her eyes, but dashed Trixie's hopes by saying to her, "Daddy and I are still talking to you later, Monkey."

Dan reached to take his daughter's hand, with a headshake and a brief chuckle toward Lucifer. "Nice try, man." To Chloe, he added, "See you tonight."

"Oh, Daddy, " Trixie said, waving goodbye with her free hand and then reaching to push the elevator's call button. "Rae's mom said to tell you hi."

Chloe noted Dan's startled, almost guilty reaction as the pair stepped into the elevator and the doors closed, and filed it away as something to be discussed at a later date. Turning back to Lucifer and Maze, she sat in one of the chairs only to see Maze's smirk and Lucifer's look of profound discomfort. "What?"

"Trust me," Maze said, with a throaty chuckle, "you do not want to know."

Chloe sighed, her unspoken _Fine_  obvious. Setting her ex-husband's oddness aside for the moment, she turned her attention to the demon. "Maze, you were the last one to see Rae that we know of. Where did the two of you go when you left Ella's place?"

"I'm not one of your suspects, Decker," the demon replied. Her lips curving, she added, "If you're going to question me like one, the least you could do is cuff me first."

"Ah, there's an image that's going to stay with me," Lucifer observed, with a broad smile. "The question does have merit, though, Maze. Why did you get Rae from Miss Lopez's place?"

Maze shifted in her seat, then turned to Lucifer. "You serious about wanting to find her, or was it just a show for the kid?"

"Quite serious," Lucifer replied. "I... want to put Beatrice's mind at ease."

Chloe hid a smile. "Of course, yes, thank you," she agreed. "I'm sure that's it." She ignored Lucifer's quick look and refrained from further teasing; she knew he'd never admit to missing his little sister.

Maze inclined her head. "Okay, then." She reached into the inside pocket of her jacket and pulled out a small cloth bundle, which she handed to Lucifer.

Lucifer took the bundle and opened it, then surged to his feet, catching the demon's wrist in an iron grip. "Mazikeen, what have you done?" The words held the weight of fury; his eyes flared red.

Chloe, unthinking, thrust herself between the Devil and his demon, one hand on Lucifer's chest. Lucifer, somewhat to everyone's surprise, subsided, his eyes shading back to their usual brown. He released his grip on Maze's arm.

Chloe took a breath and eased back a step. "You good?" she asked Lucifer. He nodded silently, though his gaze remained on Mazikeen; he shifted his hand so Chloe could see what was wrapped in the cloth: a large gray feather, the calamus neatly split.

"Huh," Maze murmured, glancing between the two. To Lucifer, she explained, unrepentant, "I didn't do anything. I didn't even hit her, and, trust me, I had the chance. I threw a knife at her - to scare her - and she didn't get far enough out of the way. If I'd meant to hurt her, she'd be hurt. You know she's shit at ducking." With a snort that almost sounded offended, she added, "Would have thought she'd have figured out ducking by now, but I guess not."

"Why would you hit her?" Chloe asked, puzzled. "And why did you throw a knife at her?" She did not ask what had so enraged Lucifer about the damaged feather, though she cast a curious look his way.

When Maze didn't answer, Lucifer offered tightly, "Maze and Azrael have had a long association, and not usually a positive one. Though I thought the two of you had resolved your issues?"

"Why doesn't matter," Maze replied shortly. "She was fine when I left her. And with that -" Here a nod to the feather that Lucifer cradled in one hand, "- maybe you can find her. If you really want to."

"Why wouldn't he want to, Maze?" Chloe asked. "She's his little sister."

"Not that fraternal relations necessarily count for anything in my family," Lucifer murmured. "But you have thoughts on the matter, Maze?"

The demon eyed Lucifer. "Aren't we overlooking the obvious, here?"

"What do you mean?" Lucifer queried, brows lifting. He shot a quick glance to Chloe, who shrugged; clearly, it wasn't obvious to her, either.

Maze sighed. "You know TD won't shut up about how much she wants to go home. What if the big guy finally said yes?"

"TD?" Chloe murmured with a look of inquiry to Lucifer.

"Tiny Death," Lucifer replied absently, his brows lowering in thought. "I suppose that could have happened, but I would have thought that she'd come and say goodbye first..."

Maze shrugged. "Maybe she was so glad to leave..." Catching that flash of hurt in Lucifer's expression, she relented. "Or maybe your dad wouldn't let her."

"Speculation gets us nowhere," Lucifer said crisply. As Chloe watched in fascination, he closed his eyes and folded his hands. "... nope," he said, after a moment. "If she's been restored to her celestial form, she's not answering."

"She'd answer, Lucifer," Chloe said gently. "So _can_  you track her with the feather?"

Lucifer frowned down at the object in his hand. "Let's find out, shall we?" He teased the feather out of its cloth cocoon and let it touch his skin, closing his eyes. "She hasn't returned to the Silver City," he said finally. "But she's not nearby. East." He opened his eyes, repeating softly, "East."

Maze snorted, ruining any semblance of a moment. "Thought it'd be more specific than that."

Miffed, Lucifer replied, "Well, I'm not Google Maps, am I? It'll get clearer as I get closer." He added, in an irritable mutter, "Better than following a bloody star, that's for sure."

"So, what, you just... hop in a car and drive east?" Chloe inquired dubiously.

"Or fly," Lucifer agreed thoughtfully. At the startled look from Chloe, he clarified patiently as he wrapped the feather back in its cloth, "In a plane, Detective. No wings, remember?"

"Wait, those wings were..."

Lucifer nodded. "My actual wings, yes."

As Chloe shook her head, Maze queried, "You want me to come?"

After a long moment of consideration, Lucifer shook his head. "Shouldn't be necessary."

Maze nodded and started for the exit. One hand on the elevator door, she turned. "Decker." As Chloe looked over, she shifted in place. "Don't be too hard on the kid. She had a good reason, even if what she did was dumb. Just tell her to ask me if she ever wants info out of Momma Morningstar. I'd be..." Maze pondered her word choice with a smirk. "Very happy to oblige."

"Thanks, Maze," Chloe replied, and the demon let the doors close behind her.

Lucifer refilled his glass, and then drained its contents. "I really hope Rae isn't going to be put out about being found," he mused. "She's really no fun when she's annoyed."

"But what if something happened to her," Chloe said quietly. "I mean, she's far away, right? She's not hiding out somewhere nearby." She hesitated, then added, "If you want, I can..."

Lucifer shook his head. "You have your job, and your offspring. I do appreciate the thought, but I'm not sure how long this us going to take. I can handle things."

"Right," Chloe agreed. A pause. "Because you're the Devil."

Lucifer turned, with a faint smile. "I was thinking it was because I'm her brother." As Chloe fumbled with an apology, he shook his head. "No worries Detective. But I'd best start making arrangements."

Chloe nodded. "Keep me posted, yeah?"

Lucifer smiled. "Of course," he agreed.

The detective left, and Lucifer stepped out to the balcony. He lit a cigarette and took his time smoking it, then deliberately ground it out in the ashtray. Finally, he said quietly, "She's better be all right, old man." Then, taking out his phone, he returned to the penthouse and started to prepare for his journey.


	11. The Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get inside Azrael's head. She flies, until she doesn't, and someone arrives.

Later, when they asked her what she was thinking - and the question was repeated in all manners: confused, worried, angry, disappointed - she almost always said she didn't know, if she bothered to answer at all.

That wasn't quite the truth.

* * *

 

After Josh's departure, Azrael returned to her earlier pattern of spending the day in flight and then collapsing into bed. She pushed herself harder, practicing with a diligence she hadn't possessed the first time she'd learned to fly, and her body responded; it grew more difficult to get out of bed in the mornings, but she found, almost, a certain pride in this mortal body. She resolved that she could bend it to her will, if only she tried hard enough.

Her phone remained in the front pocket of her backpack, dark and silent; her books unopened, her piano untouched. She ate sparingly, though she smiled when she filled her cereal bowl. She did not address her father: not before meals or when she was caught by the beauty of her surroundings, not when an attempt at an aerial trick failed - she had other words she used then, or she tried again in grim silence. The closest she came to calling to him was in that moment just before sleep, when everything blurred toward oblivion. It was then that she'd form the beginnings of a prayer: _please_ or _why_ or _listen, for once_ , but she never managed more than that before slumber overtook her. In the morning, if she recalled her attempts, she pushed away the hot shame and tried to be grateful that sleep had prevented their completion. What could she say, after all, that she hadn't already said countless times already? What would make him reply?

When she allowed herself a rare moment to think, she admitted that she had been in this particular headspace before, in the millenia of her existence. All the other times, she'd had her job to occupy her, and something - revisiting a place she enjoyed, or some new bit of cleverness from the mortals, or the relentless press of her work reminding her that just stopping was not an option - nudged her back to what passed for normalcy. The most recent time, back in the sixteenth century, it had been Lucifer - and, she conceded, in that tiny corner of her mind not fogged by exhaustion, the forbidden novelty of the alcohol he had coaxed her to try - that had pulled her back.

Josh had not brought alcohol. She did not think that had been unintentional.

Lucifer was... not there.

She could change that, she knew. Oh, not that Lucifer would hear if she called to him, but another brother would. Josh or Raphael would gladly take her back to LA in the blink of an eye. Well, Michael would as well, but she wouldn't ask him when she had alternatives.

And it wasn't even that she didn't want to go back. She was in her head too much here, she knew that. But contrariness kept her here, in this place that was hers alone, where she didn't have to worry so much about appeasing her father.

Well, that and the flying.

Always the flying.

It was easier here, where she didn't have to worry that she'd inadvertently reveal herself, as she had to Chloe and Trixie - though she had her suspicions about the circumstances of that particular event. The sheer openness of her surroundings made flying a glory, almost a prayer in itself.

Flying had come naturally to her when she was as young as this body appeared. She'd taunted her older siblings with her dives and her hairpin turns: _You can't catch me!_ And they couldn't, or, more likely, they'd let her believe they couldn't; the amused tolerance of her elders was one of the few benefits of being so near to the youngest.

Now, with her wings on this ungainly body, she had to struggle for what had been effortless. But she had to be grateful, always grateful, for at least she had her wings. Amenadiel had learned that what their father granted could just as easily be taken away. Father could again decide that her silence meant sullenness, rather than her real need to have this time to herself. So: gratitude.

This was her state of mind when the storm hit. She was, naturally, on the far side of the valley, perched on a ledge for a breather and thinking resentful thoughts about the sheer volume of moisture the mortal body could produce. She wiped her forehead with the back of her sleeve, though the puffy fabric absorbed very little, and exhaled a long breath, watching the fog of condensation with vague interest.

While she had been moving, she'd been fine, but she could feel the chill settling in her extremities the longer she rested. Well, then: break time over. She got carefully to her feet, but had to grab for the side of the rock face as the wind gusted. Wedging herself against the rocks, she squinted at the sky, observing the ragged, dark gray clouds with some trepidation. Mentally measuring the distance back to her house, she shook her head, thinking, _Raziel, if you ever cared for me..._

Azrael chose to believe that the snow that poured from the sky was not her brother's way of telling her that he wanted to remain Angel of Death with no interference from her. At least, she thought, she could no longer see the clouds.

Clinging to the rock face, Azrael tried to gather her thoughts, to find a solution to her predicament. The temperature and increasing windspeed made waiting out the storm impossible in her tiny, unsheltered ledge. Really, as so often seemed to happen in her life, there was no choice, or at least none she could find at the moment.

Heart pounding, she unfurled her wings, pointed herself toward her house, took a deep breath, and jumped. 

For just a moment, her desperate attempt at reaching the house seemed possible. The gusting wind sent her in the proper direction faster than she had ever managed in this body, and the combination of the exhilaration of flight and the peril of her situation focused Azrael's tired brain. Thus, she was completely aware when everything went off the rails, when the wind swirled her off-course and her left wing twisted in a way that wings should not move. Gasping with the pain, she tried desperately to continue, but her damaged wing refused to obey and she fell, plummeting toward the ground and hitting with a sickening crunch.

Panicking, Azrael struggled to breathe, but the pain overwhelmed her and defied any attempts to catalog her injuries. Her arm buckled when she attempted to push herself upright, and she fell back, staring skyward.

She wasn't sure how much time passed before the figure bent over her. Waves of dizziness made it impossible to keep her eyes open for more than a few seconds at a time, but she saw hands reaching for her and flinched away in anticipation of more pain.

Everything stopped.

No, only the pain.

Strong hands lifted her, and she found herself cradled against a scratchy wool sweater. She managed to keep her eyes open long enough to focus on a concerned face. "Child, what were you thinking?"

Realization struck as unconsciousness threatened. She struggled against it, and he held her closer. "Hush, now. Time enough for explanations later."

Azrael managed one word before the darkness claimed her. "... Dad?"


	12. A Parable or a Very Subtle Joke?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family members converge upon Azrael's house in the aftermath of the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quoted poem is Rilke (trans. Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows), but that poem (Sonnets to Orpheus II, 29) is from a different book. I just couldn't resist the title of the book I used.  
> Thanks to Crash Test Dummies for the chapter title. This one got away from me just a bit.

Azrael clawed her way to consciousness and immediately regretted the decision. Her whole body ached, more in some spots than others, though it was a manageable pain. Worse was the fatigue, which made her wonder if somehow the gravity in the room had been increased, pressing her deeper into the bed. She took a cautious breath and then another, deeper one when the first proved to be a success. Bracing herself upright on one elbow with some effort, she surveyed the room: her room, in her house, empty but for herself.

She propped herself up against the headboard, needing the support. Had she hallucinated what she thought she remembered? She'd definitely hit her head, that much was clear, and her memories of her fall were clouded. From the little she remembered, that was a blessing. But the man, the person who'd helped her...

Of course it wasn't him. Of course not. He'd never come here. Not for her.

A chair from the living room was tucked next to her bed, a book spine-up on the seat. Poetry. _Rilke's Book of Hours: Love Poems to God_. She did not remember that she owned that book, though she did enjoy Rilke. Suddenly she had a flash of memory: waking briefly to the sound of a low, deep voice reading to her.

_Let this darkness be a bell tower_  
_and you the bell. As you ring,_  
_what batters you becomes your strength._

"Dad." The word emerged as a whisper; she hadn't spoken much lately. She coughed and tried again. "Dad?"

Footsteps sounded from the hall and he appeared in her doorway, a glass of water in hand: an older man with salt-and-pepper hair and beard. He wore a thick, blue sweater, and her cheek remembered its scratchiness. His expression was one of concern. Strange, she thought, to see such a look on a face she associated with her father.

"You shouldn't be up," he said, "but since you are, would you like a drink?"

Azrael stared at him for a long moment, still not quite believing he was there, then nodded. "Please." Manners. He approved of manners.

Her father - her _father?_ \- came the rest of the way into the room and held the glass while she drank from the straw. When she'd finished, he set the glass aside and returned to the chair, laying the book next to the glass. "You should lie down," he urged. "That body has been through a lot."

As she had come to a similar conclusion, Azrael eased back, though still at an angle that she could see the man, exhaling a soft sigh. She studied his face, then repeated softly, "Dad?"

He nodded, with a look of inquiry.

She looked away a moment, then back to him. Risking it, she asked, "What are you doing here?"

He shifted in his seat, adjusting the chair so that it was just so. "I come down from time to time. Get the lay of the land, that sort of thing. Never for very long, though; too much to do upstairs." Smiling a little at her shocked expression, he added, "It's not something I advertise, so I'd appreciate it if you would keep that under your hat."

"Of course," Azrael replied immediately, though not without a little inwardly-directed contempt for the surge of pride she felt at his apparent trust. _Stop_ , she chided herself. _He probably wants something; that's why he's acting like this_. The fact that she knew she'd do what he wanted no matter how he acted... well. Suddenly, though, those times when he wouldn't see anyone made a little more sense.

"I don't think that's what you were asking, though."

Azrael shook her head, thinking - but definitely not saying - that she was certainly used to oblique answers and half-truths from most of her family, and that even that non-answer was more than she was accustomed to hearing from her father.

Something of her mistrust must have shown on her face, for her father sat forward, arms braced against his knees, his clasped hands brushing the bed. He met her gaze with an intensity that made her want to look away, though she found that she couldn't. "I'm here because of what happened in the valley."

Azrael dragged her eyes from her father's, looking at her hands instead. "You mean... the storm?" she queried uneasily. "What happened wasn't as bad as all that."

"It _was_ as bad as all that," he replied, his voice quiet but firm. "If your brother hadn't been keeping an eye on you, if he hadn't told me... child, you took an unacceptable risk."

Azrael looked up once more. Her lips pressed together tightly, then she said, "Even if this body died, I just would have returned to the Silver City." This was clearly not exactly a bad outcome, from her perspective.

"Your work here isn't finished, though," her father said, a familiar stern note creeping into his tone. "You know that."

Azrael nodded. She spoke slowly, doing her best to choose her words with care, though her though her increasing fatigue made that a challenge. "I do," she agreed softly. "I wasn't trying to... to go home. I just... I thought I could make it back here, to the house. I almost did."

"Maybe your definition of _almost_ is different than mine," he chided. "Or maybe you overestimated your abilities."

Azrael tried not to let her resentment show on her face. Yes, she privately admitted, she probably _had_ overestimated her abilities, but she would have been just fine if she'd had her supernatural skills, rather than this mortal body. Seeing her father watching her, she nodded, though she still wasn't going to make the admission aloud.

Her father cleared his throat, drawing her attention once more. "You should talk to someone when you get back to LA," he suggested gruffly. "Samael's therapist. Dr. Martin."

"Dad, I'm fine," Azrael replied, though she kept her tone meek. Catching sight of his frown, she capitulated, "All right. I will. I'll call her when I get back." She risked a glance at her father. He was still watching her, inscrutable as always, and she dared to say, "I just... I don't understand, Father. Michael was going to bring me home, but then Josh said that you want me to go back to LA."

Smiling a little at her nickname for her brother, he nodded. "Circumstances have changed," he said, his expression sobering. "In coming here, you actually contributed to the change."

Azrael kept her expression bland, and managed not to sigh. It was, after all, the sort of answer she'd expected. "I don't suppose you could be more specific?" she suggested, trying a hopeful smile.

"I don't suppose I could."

Of course not.

Azrael fidgeted with her blanket. These awkward silences, she remembered suddenly: they tended to happen on those rare occasions that she was alone with her father. She ventured, more to break the silence than because she expected an actual answer, "Why did you send me there, to LA? Was it... was it because of Uriel?"

"Of course," he replied mildly.

She let her eyes close. She'd never thought he'd say it outright. So Michael had gotten it right after all. "I never imagined that he'd take my blade," she whispered miserably. "Or that he'd come here. Father, I'm sorry, I promise I'll-"

"Azrael, look at me." Startled, she did. "You need to let go of this guilt before it consumes you," her father instructed, though his faint smile implied that he knew this was no easy thing he asked. His face turning mournful, he added, "Uriel was always determined, and Samael... well, he was put in a difficult spot. Your part in your brother's death was very small, child, and you certainly weren't sent here as penance for it."

Azrael stared at her father. Her mind was working slowly, still numbed by the events of the day and by her growing exhaustion. "I don't understand."

Her father leaned closer once more. "How could I ask you to collect the souls of the dead when your brother, whom you loved, had died?" he explained gently. "How could I expect you to deliver them to the Silver City and hear someone else give the welcome speech? You needed a change, daughter, and Samael has always lifted your spirits."

Azrael could not think. She wiped mutely at her overflowing eyes with the back of her hand; her father, after a moment, fumbled a handkerchief from his pocket. She took it and wiped her eyes once more, unable to do anything but look at her father. Finally, she managed, a catch to her voice, "But Michael said..."

"Michael spoke in error, and has been chastised." Seeing Azrael's lips curve just a bit, her father added, a note of reproof in his voice, "Schadenfreude is not becoming, daughter."

Azrael looked away for a moment as she smoothed her features to a more neutral expression, murmuring an apology, but a small, uncharitable part of herself still rejoiced at the news.

Her father did not look fooled, but he said only, "You have more questions, child?"

Azrael nodded. "I... yes." She took a deep breath. "I enjoyed my time in LA, for the most part, and I'll obey you and go back, but will I get to come home?"

"Yes, of course," he replied, sounding a little puzzled. "This was always intended to be temporary; surely your brothers told you that."

With another nod, Azrael replied wryly, "Yes, but one of them was Michael. I believed Josh, of course. I just... wanted to hear it from you."

Her father reached over and patted her hand. "To be clear: yes, you will be able to come home in time, and things will be mostly as they were."

Azrael exhaled a shaky, relieved breath. She noted those key words _in time_ and _mostly_ , but she didn't dare press for details. She'd already learned far more than she'd hoped. "Thank you, Dad." She risked a glance at him and said tentatively, "I would better accomplish your will if I knew what you wanted me to do."

Her father sat up. "Don't worry. I'm sure you'll do just fine." He got to his feet, adding, "I need to be off." He started for the door, then turned, frowning a little. "Tell your mother..."

Azrael sat up a little, summoning alertness, but her father shook his head, apparently changing his mind. "Your brother will be here soon. Just rest until he gets here, all right?"

Azrael sighed. So close. "Which brother?"

"Samael," he replied, with a tight, tense expression that was more like the father she remembered.

"Lucifer," Azrael corrected without thinking, but her father didn't seem to notice. "Dad, wait," she protested. He gave her a look of inquiry, and she continued, "Stay. Talk to him. Please."

Her father shook his head. "Child, that would not be a good idea. Your brother's not ready. He's still too angry."

Azrael hesitated, then replied, her voice quiet but steady, "I don't entirely blame him."

"Azrael -" Her father clearly throttled back his temper - Lucifer, Azrael observed, came by his own temper honestly - and continued more calmly but still with an edge to his voice. "You were very young when all that happened. You don't have a full understanding of the situation."

Azrael regarded her father for a long moment. "You could explain it," she suggested, but her father shook his head. She sighed and struggled to focus. "You're right," she said finally, fatigue blurring her voice. "He's angry. But, Dad, somebody has to take the first step. Please?"

"I'll think about it," he said, moving back to the chair. "Just rest."

And she did, letting her eyes close, trying not to hope that he would read to her some more. Trixie, she decided, had an excellent point about bedtime stories.

* * *

"No, I think she must have some sort of grudge against me," Lucifer said irritably, half his attention on keeping the rental car - and it wasn't even a sports car, insult upon injury - on the narrow road. Not that he could see the road under all the snow, but at least his was the only car. "Why else would she be in this ridiculous land of snow? The flight being diverted was bad enough, but now these roads..."

Chloe's chuckle sounded through the car speakers. "Because she knew you'd be driving after a snowstorm to come find her, of course. Just be careful, yeah?"

"The Devil doesn't need to be careful," Lucifer replied carelessly. "But staying on this road would be much easier if the snowplow had come through here lately. I'm nearly there, though."

"Okay, good," Chloe replied. "I'm going to let you go so I'm not distracting you, but call me later?"

Lucifer laughed. "Oh, this isn't nearly distracting enough, Detective. If you _really_ wanted to distract me, you could -"

"Goodbye, Lucifer." Her voice was full of laughter, but she still disconnected the call.

It was probably for the best, though if he were honest with himself, he rather preferred his Detective's voice to the music that replaced it when the call ended. He'd forgotten his iPod, and could only pick up two radio stations, country and Christian talk radio. While he'd amused himself by shouting advice to the callers to the talk show, even that got old. Still, he was getting close to his wayward sister. The trip itself had been tiresome, between the travel and the bloody cold, and he was looking forward to its end. Never mind that he still had the return trip. He glanced down at the feather, carefully tucked into his left cuff and pressing against the skin of his wrist.

The car fishtailed, and Lucifer eased off the gas pedal, pulling his attention back to his driving. He was nearly there, and wouldn't it be embarrassing to get into an accident right on Azrael's doorstop... and it did appear that there would be a doorstop, as a small house had come into view. Lucifer pulled the car off the road and into what passed for a driveway.

Lucifer considered the small house: stucco and stone and horizontal lines, classic Prairie School architecture. Charming. He crunched through the snow and to the front door, lamenting the dampness on his shoes. The door opened to his touch, of course, but the house within was silent.

Under other circumstances, the piano would have drawn his attention. An antique rosewood Steinway upright, it looked like it would be a joy to play, but not just now. The room itself was light and airy, with the far wall of windows looking out on the valley beyond.

Azrael was close, Lucifer could tell; her feather was somehow warm against his skin. It had grown cold for a time, while he was driving, and that still worried him. He strode through the room and opened the nearest door just a bit... and there she was. His heart clenched at the sight of his sister. Azrael, whom he'd only ever seen sleep curled on her side, was stretched out prone on top of the blankets. She was - yes, she was breathing, but how had she grown so thin in such a short time, so pale? And was that dried blood in her hair? Lucifer pushed the door open, but stopped at the sight of the man sitting at Azrael's bedside. "Who are you?" he snarled, his voice no less furious for its low volume. "Get away from my sister!"

The man set aside his book and moved toward Lucifer; the Devil stepped closer to the bed, putting himself between the stranger and Azrael.

"Let's go out," the older man suggested. "Your sister needs to rest, and I wouldn't want us to wake her."

Lucifer nodded after a moment's thought; better to get the man farther from Azrael. He gestured, and the older man preceded him from the room; Lucifer, after a final, worried look at his sister, shut the door behind them.

Lightly tugging one cuff of his sweater, the man crossed to exit to the deck, leading Lucifer outside. Lucifer, after a moment of hovering near his sister's door, followed.

"She's agreed to go back with you," the stranger said. "It'd be best if one of your siblings took her, and you as well, if you like. I don't think she could handle the trip otherwise."

Lucifer looked briefly relieved at the mention of his sister's return to LA, though suspicion clouded his features at the rest of the man's words "Who are you, old man?"

The man considered the windows behind him and prudently took two steps to the side, so he was instead standing before a solid wall. "You know who I am, Samael."

After a moment in which he stared at the other man in shock, Lucifer crossed the deck in three long strides and punched his father square in the jaw with a rather excellent left hook, knocking the man back against the wall behind him. "That's not my name anymore, you bastard!"

His father rubbed at his jaw and regarded his son. "It will always be your name, but I'll call you whatever you want, son."

"Don't call me _son_ ," Lucifer spat. "And since when has what I wanted ever mattered to you?"

"Keep your voice down," the older man snapped, with a glance to the still-open door. He closed his eyes for just a moment and took a deep breath, then chuckled wryly. "You always could get under my skin. Sometimes I could tell there'd be a fight just by the set of your shoulders when you came into the room."

Lucifer looked for a moment like he was going to argue with his father's injunction, but he glanced back at the house and nodded briefly. "This isn't nostalgia time," he said, his voice sharp and brittle, a knife that would crumble if it struck a blow. "My question stands."

His father didn't say anything for a long moment. "Son, it was a long time ago-" he began.

"I'm not your son," Lucifer declared, his volume increasing. "Not anymore. Not after the way you treated me. You gave up the right to call me that."

The older man looked away, out the window. "Lucifer," he addressed his son: a concession. "Lucifer," he repeated, though it seemed to pain him to say it. "It's always mattered," he said quietly. "But what you did - I couldn't overlook it. It set a precedent. I couldn't let it go."

"So you threw me out," Lucifer sneered, "Sent me down to Hell. Brilliant solution, old man. You couldn't come up with something else? No, of course not. You didn't want to get your hands dirty."

His father didn't speak for a moment. "It had to be done," he said finally, his voice quiet but firm. "I couldn't let your siblings think I'd tolerate such behavior."

Lucifer threw up his hands in exasperation, turning on his heel. "Who among them would have followed my example? Amenadiel, your warrior? Michael, everyone's favorite sycophant? That idiot Raziel?" Gesturing sharply back to the house, he added, "My sweet little sister Azrael, who still thinks you hung the moon even after everything you've done to her? None of them would have dared."

"Technically, I did hang the moon," his father pointed out. Ignoring his son's profound eye roll, he added, "And Amenadiel isn't exactly the best example to give, considering his current status. As for your sister, she's content with her fate."

"She's not content," Lucifer protested. "She's going along with you so that you'll let her come home."

The older man sighed. "She knows that I'm going to let her come home as soon as she accomplishes her task. I explained all that to her today."

"Right. And what task is it, pray, that involves you sending her to me?" Lucifer queried sharply. "Are you using my sister to interfere in my life?"

His father didn't say anything.

"Answer me," Lucifer pressed.

"Son, you don't-"

It was too much. Lucifer flared into his other form, eyes blazing. "Call me son _one more time_ ," he roared. Gesturing at himself, he added, "Look at what you have wrought, _Dad_. Like what you see?"

His father stepped forward, one hand lifted, but Lucifer batted it away, inexplicably near tears. "Don't touch me. Don't-"

The other stepped back, shook his head. "I shouldn't have stayed," he said quietly. "You're not ready."

"I'm not ready?" Lucifer protested, his form unchanged. "Ready for what?"

But he questioned emptiness, for his father had left.

With an inarticulate roar of frustration, Lucifer stepped forward to punch the wall. He felt a hand on his shoulder and, perhaps thinking his father had returned, turned with a new target for his punch. The other deflected the blow and redirected the energy, sending him staggering toward the edge of the deck.

"Oh," Lucifer said, upon seeing who it was. "It's you. Of _course_ ," he sneered. "He doesn't want to deal with me, so he sends you to do his dirty work." His manic grin was particularly unsettling in his burned form. "Well, you'll do."

Josh considered Lucifer with a barely aspirated sigh. "Seriously? Fine, if that's what you want." He stepped off the deck and into the snow, which rose to his knees. Hands at his sides, he said, "Go ahead, then."

"Oh, don't be such a fucking martyr, Yeshua," Lucifer sneered, following him to the ground.

Josh snorted back a laugh and held up his arms shoulder-height, parallel to the floor. "Can't be avoided, sorry."

Lucifer rolled his blazing eyes and advanced on his brother.

* * *

Lucifer had gone from furious to frustrated over the past ten minutes. Try as he might, he couldn't lay a hand on his youngest brother, though Josh hadn't hit him, either, only tossed him lightly to the ground each time Lucifer had approached. Flat on his back in the snow for at least the fifth time, he finally reverted to his human form and queried, "When did you turn into Action Jesus with the Kung-fu Grip?" At least his brother was breathing hard. That was some small consolation.

Josh shook his head with a small smile, leaning down to offer a hand up. "It's aikido, actually."

Lucifer shrugged and got up without assistance. "Aikido grip doesn't really have the same ring, though." He straightened his suit jacket and sighed, giving it up as a lost cause. Jacket, pants, shoes... and Beatrice wasn't even involved.

Josh nodded, conceding the point and moving to sit on one of the wide deck stairs after first brushing off some of the snow. "I think... well, seeing you in your other form, it was hard for him."

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Oh, well," he drawled sarcastically. "I'd hate to make anything difficult for him, goodness knows. If he thinks seeing it is a challenge, he should try living it." He kicked a clump of snow with an exasperated huff. "What was he even doing here? He never comes here. And what's the matter with Rae? She looks half-dead in there."

Josh leaned down and grabbed a handful of snow, absently compacting it into a ball. "He came here because of Rae. She was out when the storm hit, far side of the valley. Tried to fly back. It... didn't go well."

Lucifer winced. "And the old man was watching out for her?" he queried, his tone disbelieving.

"Well, no," Josh replied, his smile a little bitter. "I was. I came to visit her earlier in the week, gave her some news she didn't like, so I was keeping tabs on her. She... it was bad, brother. I couldn't have healed her, not in time, nor even Raphael. But Dad came. She'll be okay, but she needs to rest."

Lucifer snorted, and moved to sit on the step near Josh. "What, Dad's got you bearing his bad news, now? Lucky you. As for healing Rae, he probably doesn't want to find another flunky to do his bidding, that's all."

Shaking his head, Josh sighed. "He does care for her, Lucifer, he-"

"Yes, well, he doesn't show it very well, does he? Not that that's anything new." Lucifer looked toward the far end of the valley, judging the distance and shaking his head. "I know he's written me off, but the way he's treated Rae..." He shook his head.

"He hasn't written you off," Josh countered, though not without a wary look for his most volatile brother.

Lucifer looked over and said flatly, "Right. Because kicking me out and consigning me to Hell is the sign of a caring, involved parent."

"Believe what you will," Josh replied. "But you're still his son, for all that you won't let him call you that."

Lucifer snorted. "Snooping, were you?"

Josh shrugged. "It's not like he would have told me how that particular conversation went." He looked over, then. "Rae asked him to stay to talk to you, you know. She begged him. That he stayed, talked to you... that means something."

"No, it doesn't," Lucifer replied flatly. "He said... he didn't..." He looked over at his brother, then growled, "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" Josh replied mildly.

"Like I'm some pathetic, pitiful creature. The Devil doesn't need pity."

"The Devil," Josh replied with a grin, "Needs to stop talking in the third person so much." And he tossed his snowball at his brother, snow exploding into Lucifer's ear and sliding past his shirt collar.

Feeling the cold soak along his spine, Lucifer stared at his brother. "You did not just do that."

"Didn't I?" Josh replied with a grin. He leaned down to scoop up some more snow. "You sure? Well, I guess I should show you again." With that, Josh launched into a dive roll and came up with another snowball, which he flung into Lucifer's chest. "Come on, brother," he urged, grinning. "Maybe you can hit me when you use a snowball, since you sure can't with your fists."

Lucifer drew himself upright, offended, opened his mouth to protest... and promptly ate another snowball.

Lucifer spat out a mouthful of snow. "That does it." He stood, dove behind a bush and started to amass an arsenal of snowballs, much to Josh's delight.

"This'll get him out of his sulk," he mused, compacting another snowball. "Hopefully..."

* * *

Azrael braced herself against the door and flicked on the light in her bathroom, wincing a little at the sight of her reflection. She cast a longing look at her shower, but didn't even try; she was reasonably certain that she wouldn't be able to stay upright long enough, much as she wanted to be clean. Lucifer was on his way, apparently, and having him find her in the shower would be too much. She brushed her teeth, reflecting that it was odd that such a small thing could make her feel better, then sat on the toilet and dampened a washcloth, doing her best to get the blood out of her hair.

The surreal nature of her day hit her with a jolt, and she leaned forward, bracing her arms on her thighs, her head in her hands. How much of what she remembered was real? The fall, yes. She wouldn't feel so horrible after just a regular day of flying. But the rest?

Azrael made her careful way back to her room. There was the glass, still partly full of water. And there, next to it, was the book. She picked it up, one hand anchoring herself to the table, and bent down precariously to tuck it into her backpack.

A shout from beyond the room caught her attention. Lucifer? But why would he be out back? More importantly, why would he be shouting? Did her father stay after all?

She could not move quickly, but she put as much urgency as she could into her passage through the rooms and to the door to the deck.

She pushed the door, which was already partly open, and looked out, leaning heavily on the doorjamb. The cold roused her a little, but she was still entirely perplexed by the sight that met her: Lucifer and Josh sprawled side by side in the snow, both ruddy with cold and breathing hard.

"Are you guys... making snow angels?" she queried, her confusion obvious.

Lucifer sat up and dusted the worst of the snow out if his hair, looking over at her with some concern. "No, of course not. We were..." He fumbled for an answer, looking to Josh.

"You shouldn't be up," Josh protested, getting to his feet. "Go inside and sit down." He offered Lucifer a hand up, and this time his brother accepted.

Azrael looked between her brothers and nodded, making her way into the house.

"She didn't complain about me telling her what to do," Josh murmured, frowning.

By the time Lucifer and Josh entered, having shaken off the worst of the snow, Azrael had wrapped herself in a quilt and curled into the corner of the couch. "It's freezing out there. Sorry, I don't have coffee or anything ready..." She moved to get up, but subsided when Lucifer waved her back down.

"No worries, little sis. I come prepared." He pulled his flask out of his pocket and took a swig, then offered the flask to Josh.

The youngest of the trio took the flask and drank, brows lifting at its contents. Seeing Azrael's started expression, he said, "What? It's not like I'm not associated with alcohol, and this is much better than communion wine. Good stuff," he added to Lucifer, returning the flask.

"Only the best," Lucifer agreed. He gave Azrael a look of inquiry, extending the flask, but she shook her head.

"Thanks, but no," she said. "I don't need anything else messing with my head just now." She looked between her brothers. "Is... everything okay?"

Josh looked over to Lucifer, who took another swig from the flask and tucked it away. "By which you mean-" Here he spoke in a falsetto, affecting Azrael's accent, "How did things go with Dad?" He leveled a hard look at Azrael. "Heard you asked him to stay and talk with me. Thanks for that, _really_."

Azrael winced at the sarcasm and ducked her head. "Never mind. Sorry."

"Yes, well, I'm assuming you had a head injury when you thought _that_ was a good idea," Lucifer continued, his tone biting. "So I'll let it slide this time, but-"

"Lucifer," Josh protested. "Leave her alone."

"Don't, Josh," Azrael said quietly. "I don't want another argument." She looked up at Lucifer. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I hoped something good would come of it, but clearly I was wrong." She closed her eyes, settling a little deeper into the couch.

Lucifer considered his sister with a frown. "He said that you want to come back to LA with me."

Azrael nodded, her eyes still closed, replying tonelessly, "If you wouldn't mind, I'd appreciate it."

"What if I do mind?"

Azrael opened her eyes and sat up sharply, then winced, one hand lifting to her head. "What? Brother, please. Whatever it is he wants me to do, I need to be in LA."

"Right," Lucifer agreed crisply. "He wants you there to fulfill some purpose, likely something to do with me." He took out his flask and knocked back another drink. "Whatever it is, I no doubt disagree with it, and I see no need to help him make it happen."

Azrael stared at her older brother, her mind gone numb with shock. "But, Lucifer, if I don't do what he wants..." She couldn't finish, but sank back against the couch once more.

"Lucifer, it might not have anything to do with you," Josh snapped. "You're not the center of the universe, after all." Seeing a red-eye glare aimed his way, he finished, "Just... stop being cruel."

"Why?" Lucifer demanded. "I _am_ the Devil, after all."

Josh crossed to his brother, his expression gone dark. "Do you know what she's given up for you?"

"Josh, shut up," Azrael said intently.

"No, _Josh_ ," Lucifer sneered. "Tell me, what could my little sister have possibly given up for _me_."

"Josh-" Azrael urged, but her younger brother ignored her, talking over her.

"The day she showed her wings to your detective - something that worked out well for you, I might add - Michael was going to take her back to the Silver City," Josh said, holding Lucifer's gaze as he spoke. "She said _no_ , because she wanted to make sure you knew what had happened. She didn't want you to be caught unawares."

Lucifer's jaw worked for a moment, and then he brushed past Josh to sit next to Azrael on the couch. She seemed particularly small, he noticed. "Is that really what happened?" he asked quietly. Azrael looked away, and Lucifer protested, "I never asked you to do that - never would have asked that of you."

"I know you wouldn't," Azrael replied, her voice barely audible.

"I could have handled the situation," Lucifer said.

Azrael's voice didn't change. "I know you could have. I just... didn't want to disappear without you knowing what happened. It didn't seem right."

Lucifer didn't speak, keeping silent until Azrael finally turned to look at him. "Thank you, little sister," he said, his voice rich with sincerity, his expression stunned. "If you'd like to come back with me to LA, you are more than welcome to do so."

Azrael exhaled a shaky breath and nodded. She hesitated for a moment and then all but launched herself at Lucifer. He wondered briefly if the Detective's offspring had been giving her lessons, but then decided that he didn't care, hugging his sister close.


	13. Reach out and touch faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little fun is had at Josh's expense, and various answers are given.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Less editing than usual on this one, as I wanted to get it out before the finale tonight. I'm assuming I will need recovery time afterward! Good luck to everyone watching. 
> 
> Title from Depeche Mode.

Lucifer sighed in relief as he came in from the balcony. Home. While he hadn't been thrilled with taking the quicker way home with Josh, it was certainly better than having to make the return trip the mortal way, and it would be easier on Azrael, too.

Crossing to the bar, he poured himself a drink and tossed it back, still turning the day over in his head. His father... no, he'd unpack that later, and send Linda hazard pay. But Azrael... he still couldn't believe that she'd given up her chance to go home, and for him. He shouldn't have agreed to let her come back with him. Their father was up to something, Lucifer just knew it. Azrael was caught up in it - not her fault, obviously, and he wasn't blaming her for it - but he didn't want any part in whatever his father was planning.

He poured another drink and was considering it when his phone rang. It had survived the snow. Impressive. Lucifer pulled out the phone, all set to refuse the call, then saw the name on the display: TheDetective.

"Yes, Detective?" he greeted, polishing off his second drink and pondering a third.

"Hey," Chloe replied. "I know you said you'd call, but it's been a while, and I got worried that you'd ended up in a ditch." Somewhat muted, he heard her offspring calling, "Lucifer, did you find Rae?" and Chloe hushing her, with a murmur about not yelling in the car. "You're on speaker, by the way. Linda's here, too."

Lucifer downed another drink, almost as if it were medicine. "Hello, ladies. Yes, well, you'll be happy to learn that I'm back home in a reasonable climate and certainly not in a ditch. I did find Rae, and - Beatrice, stop, your mother can't possibly concentrate on driving with you making that noise." For, at the news that her friend had been found, Trixie had let out a gleeful whoop.

"Sorry," came the little girl's response, though she didn't sound particularly repentant.

"Is she all right?" Linda asked, though Lucifer could also hear a conversation between Chloe and her daughter going on in the background. "And how did you get back so quickly?"

Lucifer pondered the questions. Best not to give a full answer to the first question with the child listening. "I'm not entirely sure how she is, actually. Today has been... rather complicated, and I didn't really ask. As for how I got back, I got a lift from my brother. He's bringing Rae here, now."

"Mommy, just ask him, please?" That, of course, was from the offspring.

"Ask me what?" Lucifer queried. He considered the bottle. There really wasn't enough alcohol in the world for today. Surely he had something stronger set aside for such an occasion.

There was a pause from the other end of the line, and a sigh that Lucifer found quite familiar, usually because he was the one inspiring such sounds from the detective. "I hate to ask this, since I know you just got back, but could we swing by for a few minutes so Trixie can say hi to Rae? We're actually pretty close."

Lucifer glanced down at the wreck of his suit. That wouldn't do at all. He strode into his room and put his phone on speaker, the better to be heard while he changed. In deference to the child, he didn't even tell Chloe what she was missing. And she said he had no self-control! "Of course you can," he replied. "I'm sure she'll be happy to see you."

"Thank you, Lucifer," Trixie called.

"Yes, thanks," Chloe echoed. "See you soon."

Straightening his cuffs, Lucifer moved back to the living room just in time to see Josh and Azrael arrive. "A snowball right in the mouth," his brother was saying. "You should have seen the look on his face."

Lucifer strode forward, a protest on his lips, but then saw the - it had to be said - death-grip Azrael had on Josh, the tense lines of her face. Ah, distraction. "Now, be fair," he countered, with a grin. "I'm sure I got snow up your nose."

Josh nodded amiably, setting Azrael down as if she were made of spun glass, then tucking the cat backpack at her feet. "Oh, you did," he agreed.

Lucifer turned to look at Azrael, even as he kept up the casual banter with Josh. She clung to the back of a chair, her gaze turned inward. Gradually, though, she began to relax, and Lucifer cast a look of inquiry at Josh, who grimaced and shook his head.

The elevator chimed, then, and Trixie emerged as soon as she could squeeze through the doors. "Rae!" she squealed, running hell-for-leather toward her friend.

Lucifer realized that this could not possibly end well, as Azrael looked like a stiff wind would knock her over, let alone a small, fast-moving girl. He caught Trixie as she passed and swung the girl into his arms.

There was a moment of shocked silence from all in the room. Chloe, following her daughter, stopped dead and stared at Lucifer.

Trixie regarded him with some confusion. "Now you _like_ hugs?" she queried.

"No," Lucifer replied promptly. "Well, some hugs," he amended, with a brow-waggle at Chloe. " _Special_ hugs." He put down the little girl, giving her an awkward pat on the head. "Go gently," he urged, with a nod toward his exasperated sister. "She's feeling a little unwell. Nothing contagious," he added to Chloe. "I'll explain later. Where's Doctor Linda?"

"A patient called," Chloe explained. "She'll be right up."

Azrael eased into the nearby chair, which was more than large enough for enough for both girls. Trixie quickly followed and while her hug could not exactly be described as gentle, Azrael clearly did not mind.

"I missed you," Trixie proclaimed. "Where were you?" Despite her words, she all but radiated happiness; smiling in delight, she took possession of Azrael's hand, as if to assure herself of her friend's continued presence.

Azrael, while she didn't show Trixie's exuberance, reflected quiet contentment. She slid down a little in the chair and rested her head lightly against Trixie's shoulder. "I've got a house in the mountains, near the East Coast," she replied lightly.

"You've got a _house_?" Trixie echoed, impressed, as Chloe moved to sit on the nearby couch, her lips curving at the sight of the girls.

"About that," Lucifer put in, brows lifting in inquiry. "Why do you have a house?"

Azrael shrugged, looking across the room to where Lucifer stood near his piano. "It's one of my investments. Uri said I'd need it. It was a long time ago," she added, before he could ask. "So he couldn't be specific about why. Mostly I've been renting it, though I cleared the schedule when I got here."

Josh came around to sit on the opposite side of the couch from Chloe. "I can go back and take care of the rental car," he told Lucifer, nodding at his brother's murmur of acknowledgement. "Need anything done in the house, Rae?"

Azrael shook her head. "I can email my property manager tonight, but thanks." Seeing Chloe shake her head at the words, Azrael smiled, but didn't inform the detective, again, that she wasn't a child. Instead, she said, "Chloe, Trixie, this is our brother -"

"Josh," Josh supplied, with a warning look to his sister.

Chloe smiled, offering a hand, which Josh shook. "Nice to meet you," she said, the sentiment echoed by Trixie.

"That's what I was going to say." Azrael smiled sweetly at Josh, adding to Chloe, "He loves the little children."

Josh sighed. "Rae, come on."

"All the children of the world," Azrael added, a glint of mirth lighting her eyes.

"Okay, seriously," Josh protested. "You have to knock it off. The next bit, while true, gets racially insensitive, and I don't want-"

Lucifer got into the act and sat down at the piano to play a few bars of Depeche Mode's *Personal Jesus*, eliciting a chuckle from Azrael and a put-upon sigh from Josh.

Chloe turned her gaze on Josh. She studied him a long moment, then nodded. "Okay, then. Wow," she added, smiling. "They're really not subtle, are they?"

Josh laughed, shaking his head. "No, they aren't."

"Big sisters have to tease," Azrael observed, amused. "We don't have to be subtle about it."

"You're his _big_ sister?" Trixie asked Azrael, clearly still wrapping her head around everything. She sent a dubious look at Josh; he smiled at her.

Azrael nodded. "Sure am, even though I don't look like it right now."

"I'm going to head out," Josh said, getting to his feet. He paused by Lucifer, asking, "Okay with you if I come by on occasion?" He tipped his head toward Azrael, his meaning clear.

Lucifer glanced at his sister, who was speaking quietly with Trixie, and nodded. "I'll keep an eye on her."

Josh smiled, gripping Lucifer's shoulder, then turned back toward the couch. "Nice to meet you ladies," he said pleasantly. "I hope to see you again." He bent down to hug Azrael, murmuring something into her ear. She clung to him for a moment with the arm Trixie had not claimed, nodding, and then settled back against Trixie's shoulder. Josh smiled at the pair, then stepped out to the balcony and disappeared with a whoosh of air.

"That," Trixie said with conviction, "Was so cool."

Lucifer muttered something that sounded suspiciously like _show-off_ , but didn't comment further.

The elevator chimed, and Linda entered, murmuring an apology. "She's not quite my neediest client," she added, "but she comes close."

Chloe smiled. "Yeah, so you just missed Jesus."

Linda paused. "Seriously?"

Lucifer, with a wry smile, played the first four chords of the Hallelujah Chorus.

Azrael offered, "You can call him Josh."

Linda took a deep breath. "My life is... so very strange." She shook her head and moved to join Chloe on the couch, adding, "Welcome back, Rae."

"Thank you," Azrael replied. She flicked a glance skyward before adding, "I didn't realize you were going to be here. Could I borrow you for a minute?"

Linda tipped her head to one side in consideration and then nodded, standing once more. "Of course."

Azrael got carefully to her feet, then looked down at her hand, which Trixie still gripped. "I'll be right back," she promised, smiling.

Trixie chewed on her upper lip and then nodded, releasing Azrael. "You better be," she replied seriously.

Azrael glanced to the balcony, then turned toward the kitchen instead, leading the way. Linda followed, letting the swinging door close behind her.

Azrael took a water from the refrigerator and held up a second bottle, with a look of inquiry. At Linda's negative murmur, she eased into a seat, opening her water bottle and taking a long drink. "Trixie's a little clingy," she observed, looking toward the living room with a faint frown.

"She was worried about you," Linda offered, seating herself opposite Azrael. "Chloe said she was pretty upset."

Her frown deepening in concern, Azrael said, "I didn't... I mean, I wasn't gone that long."

"Not for you, no," Linda agreed, with a small smile. "But when you're Trixie's age and missing a friend, a week can feel like... well, an eternity." Giving Azrael a long, level look, she added, "Trixie wasn't the only worried one, you know. Ella's been very concerned. We all have, really."

Azrael ducked her head, though not before the therapist caught her disbelieving look. "Linda-" she began,then faltered, shaking her head.

"People care about you, Rae," Linda said gently. "If you feel the need to... take some time for yourself, maybe let someone know, next time."

"If I can," Azrael agreed softly. "I'm sorry, Linda, but it may not be up to me. When... when I go home, it might be quick. I'll do my best, but I might not have a choice." She exhaled a soft sigh, letting her head fall into her hands. "I can't give up that chance," she admitted, adding silently, _Not again._

Linda nodded, not that Azrael could see the gesture. "I can certainly understand that." Linda let the silence hang for a moment, knowing that the discomfort of quiet sometimes motivated speech, but Azrael held her tongue. Leaning in a little, Linda asked, "Are you feeling all right?"

"By which you mean I'm looking particularly haggard today?" Azrael lifted her head with a wry little smile. "It's been an interesting couple of days." Rubbing her forehead, she exhaled a soft sigh. "Any chance you've got some ibuprofen in your purse?"

"Actually, I think I do," Linda replied, rummaging in her bag.

Azrael took the bottle with a murmur of thanks. "If I asked Lucifer, he'd offer some oxy, and I'm just not up to explaining why that's a bad idea." She studied the bottle, then looked up with a faint smile. "Do I go by my age, or this body's?"

Linda chuckled, shaking her head. "I doubt the dosage instructions cover your particular situation, but you're close enough to go with the adult dose." Azrael nodded and downed the medicine, murmuring her thanks before handing back the bottle. Linda, her expression sympathetic, asked, "Are you okay?"

Azrael nodded, resting her chin in her cupped hand. "I will be. I took a bad fall, still pretty sore." Seeing the sharp incline of Linda's eyebrows, she added quickly, "That's not a metaphor, sorry. Actual fall: boom, splat. I'm still as much in Dad's good graces as I ever was, as far as I know."

"I heard you got your wings back," Linda said, with a relieved nod for Azrael's explanation.

Azrael nodded, with a small, distant smile. "Mazikeen said Chloe told you. How... how's Chloe doing? I mean, she's here; that's a good sign, right? Are she and Mazikeen still roommates?"

Linda studied Azrael for a moment, then nodded. "She still has her moments, but overall I think she's doing well. And, yes, she and Maze are still roommates. Why do you ask?"

Azrael exhaled a relieved sigh. "Mazikeen got the impression that Chloe was upset and wanted to stop living together, because of the whole demon thing. She was... a little upset with me, since I basically outed her to Chloe. But since they're okay, maybe I won't have to start running the next time I see Mazikeen. Which is good, because she's way faster."

Brows lifting, Linda asked, "You really think Maze would hurt you?"

Azrael nodded seriously. "Absolutely." After a beat of thoughtful consideration, she amended, "Well, probably. I mean, she had the chance to hit me and didn't take it. Though... that doesn't mean she won't take her shot the next time she sees me." She sighed, letting her forehead rest in her palm.

Linda offered gently, "I can talk to her, if you like?"

Azrael shook her head. "No, thanks. Mazikeen does what she wants."

"Why don't you ever call her Maze?" Linda queried.

Azrael lifted her head. "She's never told me I can." She rubbed her forehead, adding, "I actually called her that once, back in the day. She let me know she didn't find it at all acceptable." She slanted a look at Linda, adding, "I think she's mellowed since then, though, but I will deny ever having said so."

Linda nodded thoughtfully. "Well, she's certainly mellowed since I've known her." Azrael exhaled a quiet chuckle, and, after a moment of hesitation, Linda asked, "So Jesus was the brother who brought you and Lucifer back here?"

Azrael nodded, sliding down a little in her chair. "My own personal Jesus is actually Jesus, yes. Josh came to the house after -" Her attention focusing a little more sharply, she said, her manner gone careful, "Um, I'm not sure when Lucifer's next session is, but you should probably know that he spoke with our father."

Linda exhaled a soft, startled breath. "Oh. Oh, my."

"Yeah," Azrael agreed.

"How did it go?" the therapist queried, looking as if she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Azrael lifted her shoulders in a small shrug. "Well, my house is still standing," she replied, clearly not joking. "He didn't give details, and I didn't ask." She folded her arm on the table and rested her chin against it, adding softly, "He wasn't happy that I asked Dad to stay and talk with him, and he almost wouldn't let me come back here."

"Because you asked your father to talk with him?"

Shaking her head, Azrael replied, "No. Well, not just that, at least. I doubt he's thrilled that I did that. But mainly because he thinks that Dad sent me here to interfere in his life."

"Did he?" Linda queried, fascinated. There was a crash from the living room and then Lucifer called something reassuring, but she only sent a quick look toward the noise.

Azrael shrugged once more, glancing toward the living room and then back to Linda. "I don't know," she replied helplessly. "Dad wouldn't tell me, and I-" She straightened, then, with an exasperated noise. "I'm sorry. This isn't fair. You're not here to listen to me. I can... I don't know, make an appointment, like Dad said."

Linda rocked back in her chair. "Your... your father told you to make an appointment with me?" she repeated, stunned.

Azrael smiled faintly. "I think he said something like _Talk to Dr. Martin_ , so I guess technically I've done as he asked, but -"

"God knows who I am," Linda said, her eyes wide. "I mean, specifically."

A look of understanding crossed Azrael's face and she murmured, " _But now thus says the Lord, he who created you... 'Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.'_ " Linda stared at her, and she added, "No pressure. Sorry. Sometimes the whole God thing kind of gets away from me. I'm more concerned with the Dad than the deity... well, most of the time."

"I can see how that could be complicated," Linda replied, though the automatic nature of her response suggested her preoccupation with her own thoughts.

Azrael got to her feet and got another bottle of water, putting it in front of the therapist. When Linda peered at her in confusion, she asked, "Would you rather have alcohol? I'm sure Lucifer has some stashed somewhere."

Linda shook her head. "No. Thank you. I just need a minute." She did open the water, though, and drained about half of it.

Azrael nodded and got to her feet. "At least your life isn't boring," she offered, before slipping through the swinging door.

"No," Linda agreed softly. "It certainly isn't."

* * *

 

Lucifer watched Azrael and Linda leave, then crossed to sit on the couch near Chloe. "Beatrice," he said, with a too-bright smile, "I'm quite certain that my sister has paper and some sort of drawing implements in her room. It's just down the hall, there. Why don't you go and draw her a picture to welcome her home?"

After getting a nod from her mother, Trixie got to her feet and moved toward the indicated hallway. As she neared it, she turned and offered, "You can just say you want to talk about grown-up stuff. You don't have to make something up so I'll leave."

Lucifer inclined his head, respecting her honesty. "Good to know."

Trixie hesitated, then asked, "Is Rae going to be okay?"

Lucifer noted the assumption that his sister was not currently okay. "Yes," he reassured. "We'll make sure of that." Trixie nodded, then he added, "Scamper, now. We're going to talk about grown-up stuff."

Trixie grinned and continued down the hall; after a moment, a door closed softly.

"You've gotten much better at that," Chloe observed, with a smile. "Used to be, you'd throw a toy or something."

Lucifer smiled a bit. "I do pay attention on occasion."

Chloe nodded. With a glance to the kitchen, she queried, "What happened? Rae looks awful."

"According to Yeshua - Josh - she was pushing herself too hard, flying all day, trying to make her mortal body do things it's simply not capable of." Lucifer got to his feet and poured himself a drink, bringing one for Chloe as well at her affirmative nod. "To cap things off, she thought that flying in a blizzard was a good idea, and failed in such a truly spectacular way that it took our father to put Humpty Dumpty back together again. "

Chloe paused, her drink halfway to her mouth, and then put the glass on the table. "Your father," she said carefully.

Lucifer nodded, pacing behind the chairs, his strides full of caged energy. "My father," he echoed, drawing out the vowels. "Dear old Dad came slumming down here on Earth."

Chloe got to her feet and followed Lucifer, not touching him but close enough. She noted the tension in his body and asked gently, "Did you talk to him?"

Lucifer nodded. "He managed to spare me a few minutes before going back upstairs," he replied, biting each word. "Just long enough to make it extremely clear that he thought he did the right thing in sending me to Hell." He drained his drink and then, in an explosion of fury, flung the glass against the wall. Before Chloe could react, Lucifer had caught her up in his arms, twisting to place himself between her and the ricocheting glass.

"Everything's fine," Lucifer called before anyone could investigate, carefully stepping away from Chloe. Exhaling an exasperated huff, he added, more quietly, "That went better in my head. Felt good, though."

"Are you okay?" Chloe asked. She ran a hand lightly down his back, carefully brushing away glass fragments.

"Watch it," Lucifer cautioned. "There's a - yes, right there." He winced as Chloe eased out the shard of glass embedded in his triceps, adding wryly, "Damn, this is not a good day for my suits."

Shaking her head, Chloe instructed, "Take off the jacket so I can see how bad it is."

"Bossy," Lucifer observed, a note of lascivious approval in his tone. "Really, if you wanted me out of my clothes, Detective, you just had to ask."

Leveling a look at him that mingled annoyance and concern, Chloe pointed out, "I did ask, just now."

Lucifer grinned broadly as he pulled off the jacket. "So you did. I knew you'd come around one of these days. Persistence wins out in the end!"

"Knock it off," Chloe chided, though without much heat. Seeing the blossom of blood on Lucifer's crisp, white shirt, she sighed. "Well, it doesn't look that bad. Do you have a first aid kit?"

Lucifer shook his head. "In general, I don't need them," he reminded her.

Chloe grabbed her purse. "Well, then, you're stuck with whatever Band-Aids Trixie put in mine. Come on, shirt off. We can get the glass when we're done."

Lucifer shrugged agreeably and removed his shirt, draping it next to his jacket on the back of the chair.

Naturally, that was the moment Azrael returned from the kitchen.

"Trixie's in your room," Chloe said, looking up from her bag. "Can you keep her there till we clean up out here? I wouldn't want her to walk in on this."

"Wow, okay," Azrael replied, looking between the pair. She crossed the room, missing both Chloe's puzzled look and Lucifer's profoundly amused one. "Uh, have fun. But please keep it down? I really don't want to have to explain what you're doing."

"Wait, what?" Chloe queried, but Azrael was already gone. She turned back to Lucifer, puzzled.

"She thinks we're going to have sex," Lucifer informed her brightly.

Chloe just shook her head. "Of course she does," she said, sighing. Pulling the box of Band-Aids from her bag, along with a packet of antibiotic wipes, she said, "Power Puff Girls it is."

"But now that we know that Beatrice is going to be occupied..."

Chloe pushed back the thought that _the Devil_ was hitting on her - again - and turned a level look upon him. "No, Lucifer."

* * *

 

Azrael stepped into her room, smiling as Trixie looked up from the picture she was drawing. "Hi, Trixie." She crossed to sit on the edge of her bed, adding, "Your mom said you should stay here, I guess until she comes to get you. They're doing, uh, grown-up stuff."

"I know," Trixie replied agreeably, still coloring. "Lucifer told me."

That gave Azrael a moment's pause. "Wow, really? Huh. Well." She shook her head, adding, "I'm glad you found the coloring stuff. I actually got it because of you."

Trixie looked over with a smile. "Wanna see my picture? It's almost done."

Azrael nodded, with a smile. She took a deep breath and then pushed herself to a standing position. She moved to stand next to Trixie, one arm bracing on her desk. The picture was obviously herself and Trixie; she had her wings out and they were flying over a beach. Trixie paused in shading the last of the sand and looked up rather hopefully. "I'll bet flying is really fun." To her credit, she seemed to be making an honest statement, rather than angling for a flight.

"It is," Azrael agreed, smiling. "Well, most of the time." She looked down at the drawing, watching as Trixie finished the drawing and then smiling as the girl offered it to her. She moved to sit on the bed once more, studying the drawing. "I wish we could do this," she said. "But I don't know if I'm strong enough, and I wouldn't want to risk dropping you." A shudder passed through her at the thought, and Trixie got up to sit next to her.

"It's okay, " Trixie replied, leaning lightly against her friend. "But... maybe when you feel better?"

Azrael shook her head ruefully. "Seriously, do I look that bad?"

Trixie nodded. "Kind of," she admitted. "Sorry."

Azrael exhaled a soft sigh. "Don't worry about it. It's good to know. But even when I feel better, I'm only as strong as this body. I mean, I could probably hold you for a few minutes, but not long enough for something like this." She nodded at the picture.

Trixie looked up at Azrael in confusion. "But you're an angel. Can't you do... I don't know, everything?"

Azrael shook her head. "It's sort of complicated." Trixie didn't say anything, but just looked expectantly at her friend. Azrael smiled. "Okay, the short version is that my dad wants me to do something, and to do this thing, I have to be a regular person." A pause. "I think."

Trixie considered this. "A regular person, but with wings?" Azrael nodded, and Trixie asked, "What does your dad want you to do?"

Azrael let herself flop backward onto the bed, groaning softly. "I wish I knew."

"But," Trixie protested, peering down at her "How can you do it if you don't know what it is?"

Azrael looked up, her shoulders lifting in a small shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. But I will." She hesitated a moment and then shook her head, not yet willing to explain to Trixie what would happen when she had competed her task.

Trixie looked down at the picture for a moment, then asked, "Your dad... Mommy and Dr. Linda were talking about him. They said that he's God."

Azrael nodded, albeit a bit warily. Really not wanting to get into religion, she said only, "Weird, right?"

Trixie seemed to take it in stride. "Your mom is weird, too. She said I'm a bug."

Azrael sat up too suddenly, if the tightening about her eyes was any indication. "When did you speak with my mother?"

"Before," Trixie replied vaguely, adding, "I went to see if she knew where you were. She didn't."

Azrael imagined the conversation between Trixie and her mother and found herself smiling. Seeing Trixie's gaze on her, though, she sobered. "Hey, Linda said you were worried about me. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to be upset."

"That's okay," Trixie replied, unintentionally twisting the knife a little as she added, "You're back now. Can you come over after school tomorrow?" She considered Azrael, then amended, "Or maybe the next day."

"Maybe the next day," Azrael agreed. "If it's okay with your mom."

Trixie looked rather pleased at the prospect. She inhaled to say something, then hesitated and flicked a glance at Azrael before looking away.

"What?" Azrael prompted. When Trixie still didn't speak, Azrael added, "It's okay, really."

Trixie looked up at her friend and asked hopefully, "Can I see your wings?"

"Is that all?" Relieved, Azrael got to her feet and took a few steps back, then unfurled her wings. Trixie watched from her seat on the bed, her face a study in awe and delight. The size of the room meant that Azrael's wings were quite close, and Trixie's hand twitched upward before the girl stilled the motion, looking at her friend.

"Go ahead," Azrael said, her lips curving. "But checking first is always a good thing."

Permission granted, Trixie ran one finger carefully over the curve of Azrael's wing. "It's so soft," she breathed. Emboldened, she brushed her whole hand along the feathers, her face alight.

Azrael was about to speak when a knock sounded on the door, followed by Chloe calling, "Hello?"

Azrael twitched her wings reflexively and Trixie laughed in delight. "Come in," Azrael called, resting one hand on her bed. When Chloe entered, she said, brows lifting, "That was really fast. Is everything okay?"

Chloe stared, though whether it was because of the wings or Azrael's words wasn't apparent until she spoke. "We didn't - we - Lucifer broke a glass. I just wanted to make sure it was cleaned up before Trixie came out."

Azrael slanted a glance at Trixie, trying to figure out how to ask Chloe why breaking a glass involved partial nudity on her brother's part. Then she realized that, really, Lucifer didn't exactly need reasons for nudity. "Okay, then." She perched on the edge of the bed, her wing shifting to curl behind Trixie, much to the girl's delight.

Chloe considered the picture: her smiling daughter surrounded by Azrael's wings. She still wasn't entirely sure what to make of... well, any of it, really, but the friendship in particular. But she couldn't object to something that made her little girl so happy.

"Mommy, Rae's wings are so soft," Trixie informed her. "It's like petting cotton candy, or clouds."

"Clouds are kind of damp, actually," Azrael murmured, and Trixie grinned.

"Rae's going to come over after school the day after tomorrow," the little girl added. At a cough from Azrael, she amended, "If it's okay."

Chloe forced herself to look away from the wings and back to the girls, trying to ignore Azrael's knowing look. "What? Oh, that's fine. But we need to get going, now, Monkey. Dr. Linda's waiting."

Trixie got up reluctantly, and turned to claim a hug from Azrael. "See you soon, Rae!"

Azrael nodded, tucking away her wings as she hugged the smaller girl close. To Chloe, she added, "Can you let my brother know I'm going to turn in?"

Chloe nodded and, somewhat to Azrael's surprise, leaned in to hug her as well. "He's glad you're back," the detective murmured, before ushering Trixie out and closing the door.

Azrael stretched out on her bed, staring at the ceiling but not seeing it. "What am I doing?" she breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: spoilers for the finale in the comments!


	14. Late-night Chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josh returns the rental car and Azrael and Lucifer chat about recent events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from Great is Thy Faithfulness by Thomas Chisholm and Drops of Jupiter by Train.

Josh absently tossed the car keys into the air, catching them as he stepped through the automatic door into the tiny airport terminal. Of course, there was someone already being helped at the rental car desk, but Josh waited patiently enough, idly whistling _Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus_ as he stood.

He was still whistling as he reached the front of the line, though he stopped and grinned at the attendant's raised eyebrow. "What?"

"Bit prideful, isn't it, son?" He was an older man, with salt and pepper hair and a blue sweater; his faded name tag said Roy, but of course that wasn't his name.

"It's catchy." At the older man's raised eyebrow, Josh grinned and inclined his head in acknowledgement, whistling a few bars of _How Great Thou Art_ instead. He stopped upon catching the level look from the man behind the counter and instead put the rental car's keys on the counter. "You gave him a Rogue? Really? Wasn't that a little on the nose?"

His father shrugged, flipping through the stack of paperwork to find Lucifer's rental agreement. "Well, the only other option that came close was a Scion, and that seemed like kind of a mixed message. Did you fill up the tank?"

"You don't have to ask." Josh leaned against the counter, adding, "They got back to LA all right. Lucifer is still pissed off at you, no surprise there." Seeing his father's steady regard, he sighed. "She'll do what you want. You know she will."

"I know she will." He found the right paperwork, attached the keys, and tossed the bundle into the bin. "See you at home, son."

Josh nodded and turned to leave, lifting his voice in song as he did.

 _Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father;_  
_There is no shadow of turning with Thee;_  
_Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not..._

His father looked after Josh as the doors closed behind him, drowning the final line of the verse. "And he said his siblings weren't subtle..."

* * *

Some time later, Azrael had managed a shower, with a murmured prayer of thanks for her shower's truly marvelous water pressure, and several hours of deep sleep. She woke feeling... not normal, or whatever passed for her normal these days, but at least better. Reaching for her phone, ready to face it at last, she realized that it wasn't in its usual spot and had to think back to the last time she'd seen it: the evening of the play, when she'd turned it off and stashed it in her backpack.

She distinctly remembered Josh bringing the backpack, which meant it was probably in the living room. Getting to her feet, she pulled on her robe and padded into the hallway, pausing when she heard the music. Leaning against the wall, she watched her brother play. The room itself was dim, only the streaming moonlight providing any illumination. Lucifer's hands moved deftly across the keys, his movements strong and sure. After a moment, he began to sing.

 _But tell me, did you sail across the sun?_  
_Did you make it to the Milky Way_  
_To see the lights all faded_  
_And that Heaven is overrated?_

 _Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star?_  
_One without a permanent scar_  
_And did you miss me_  
_While you were looking for yourself out there?_

She must have made a noise, as he stopped playing and turned to face her, his expression reflective. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

Azrael shook her head. "I've been sleeping for most of the day," she replied. "This body decided it was time to get up. Didn't mean to interrupt you; I just came out for my bag." Scanning the room, she spotted it, and crossed to retrieve it.

Lucifer nodded and started to play once more, a slower, more reflective version of the song he'd been singing.

Azrael watched him, enjoying the play of light and shadows as his fingers moved on the keys. Standing next to the piano, she rested a hand lightly on its side, feeling the vibrations of the song.

Lucifer looked up, though his hands continued their motion. "You're looking better," he offered. "Less likely to fall over at a moment's notice."

"I'll give you at least two moments," Azrael quipped. "Sleep and a shower work wonders, I have to say."

"If that shower could talk..." Lucifer mused, grinning at his sister's noise of disgust and playing a few chords that would not be out of place in a porno.

Azrael shook her head. "You can even make the piano sound dirty," she observed, adding quickly, "And no stories about sex on the piano, please."

Chuckling, Lucifer waggled his brows, his manner implying that there certainly were such stories.

"Ew," Azrael murmured, edging away from the piano. She eyed it, clearly considering the logistics, and then shook her head. After a moment she said, "I have a question."

"Well," Lucifer replied, warming to his subject. "That last time, the trick of it was for him to -"

"Not that question!" Azrael interrupted urgently. When Lucifer subsided, amused, and began noodling on the piano, she continued hesitantly, "How did you find me? Did Raf tell you where I went?"

Shaking his head, Lucifer replied, "Actually, Maze provided the solution to that little dilemma." Seeing Azrael's puzzlement, he explained, "She gave me your feather and I used it to track you."

"But it was on the roof." Azrael's expression grew thoughtful. "I closed my eyes so she could hit me," she mused. "Maybe she got it then." She looked back at Lucifer to find him staring at her.

"You did what?" Lucifer demanded, torn between surprise and amusement. "I mean, taking a swan dive off a mountain, that's one thing, but closing your eyes to _let Maze hit you_? Do you actually have a death wish?"

"Swan dive isn't accurate, "Azrael observed, wrinkling her nose as she added, "I swear, between you and Josh, the death jokes are getting old. Would you believe he actually got Death By Chocolate ice cream for the house?"

Lucifer shook his head recognizing Azrael's attempt at distraction from his own expertise at that particular coping mechanism. His gaze sharpening a little, he prompted, "About that swan dive, though..." Seeing his sister's expression tighten, he still continued, needling lightly, "Looking for a loophole, were you?"

" _No_." She took a breath. "Maybe. I don't know." Another breath. "It wasn't so much a conscious decision as an action fueled by panic. I wasn't in the best place." Considering her own words, she wasn't sure if she meant the ledge or how she'd been thinking at the time; probably both, if she was honest with herself.

Nodding, Lucifer replied, "I can understand that."

"No, you can't." It was a flat refusal, untempered by any of Azrael's usual niceties. Catching the sharp lift of her brother's eyebrows, she repeated, a defensive note coloring her words, "Well, you can't. Mortal body, here."

Lucifer considered the stubborn set to his sister's jaw, then shook his head, opting for a subject change. "But, really, with Maze? That wasn't so bright, little sister. You should have known better. She could have done you serious harm, what with your _mortal body here._ "

Azrael made a wry face at her brother's teasing mimicry, then shrugged, moving to perch on the back of the couch. "I'd already talked her down a little, and she said she wouldn't use her knives. She had a good point, and I thought it'd be better to let her do it than let her get more angry. Funny how it all worked out; she didn't hit me, though I'm not sure why."

"That is strange," Lucifer agreed. "Well, don't lose hope," he added cheerfully. "She may still pop you a good one. I wouldn't turn your back on her if I were you."

Azrael sighed, muttering, "Gee, thanks." Turning her narrowed gaze on her brother, she added, "Where's my feather, by the way?"

"Oh, I still have it," Lucifer replied airily.

Azrael regarded Lucifer, waiting. When he didn't reply, she asked, too patiently, "Can I have it back?"

Lucifer shook his head. "No, I don't think so." At Azrael's exasperated look, he added, "Well, you do tend to take off. It could come in handy to have a way to find you. Plus, should dear old Dad randomly haul you back upstairs, I'd have a way to tell."

Azrael visibly considered arguing, then shrugged. "Fair enough, as long as you keep track of it. I'd hate to have it fall into the wrong hands."

Lucifer nodded, absently picking out a tune as he spoke. "Well, of course. Not that there are all that many who could do much with it, but I'll be careful."

"Thanks." Azrael didn't speak for long enough that Lucifer noticed her silence. Looking over, his hands still moving on the keys, he saw her expression: tense and a little unhappy. She was overthinking things again. Finally, she spoke. "I'm sorry."

Lucifer stopped playing. "Beg pardon?"

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I shouldn't have asked Dad to stay. I... I should have known how it would go."

"Yes," Lucifer agreed, his tone just a little too light for his easy manner to be truly genuine. "You should have. I suppose he patted you on the head and you rolled over for him."

Azrael slipped down from her seat and stepped around the piano so that she was standing next to her brother. With him seated and her standing, they were nearly of a height, though she didn't feel any taller. Her jaw worked for a moment, and then she nodded. "Basically, yes," she admitted. "What did you expect, brother? What, did you think I'd stand up to him? Because that's worked out so well in the past? But he... he wasn't all bad." Seeing Lucifer's look of denial, she glanced away, but continued, "He had other reasons for sending me here. Not just the task."

"Really," Lucifer drawled sardonically, his disbelief obvious. "What reasons? Do tell."

Azrael flushed, her mouth tightening, but persisted, "He thought I should have a break from ferrying the souls of the dead and... and hearing the welcome speech, after Uri." Lucifer scoffed at that, but Azrael added quietly, "He said he sent me to you because he knew you'd lift my spirits, and he was right." She hesitated, then added, her tone wry, "I mean, not at this _precise_ moment, but in general, you do."

Lucifer didn't respond. Azrael, watching him out of the corner of her eye, held her breath, hoping that her brother would accept what she, at least, saw as paternal praise; she could tell the exact moment when he rejected her words. His expression shuttered, and he closed his eyes. "Right," he said, his voice quiet and full of regret. "You drank the Kool-aid. Got it."

"Luci, no," Azrael protested. She reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, pulling back at the last moment. He wouldn't want her to touch him just now, she was sure. "I don't have any illusions about our father. I know he's manipulating me into doing... something." She exhaled in frustration. "Something," she repeated. "I don't know what, I swear."

Lucifer shook his head, opening his eyes once more and looking at her. She managed - just - not to turn away from the plea in his eyes. "He told you what you wanted to hear, and you believed him. Azrael, he's playing you, just like he always does."

Azrael took a deep breath. "I know he's using me. I know I'm just another one of his tools, like all his children - well, except you. But I don't have a choice. Don't you see that?"

Lucifer shook his head. "You could..."

Azrael moved to sit next to him on the piano bench, a scant inch of space between them, but it may as well have been a mile. When he didn't finish his words, she asked softly, "What? I could stay here? Live out my life in this mortal body, subject to all the dangers they face?" Gesturing at herself with a shake of her head, she added, "He told me that all this is temporary, but I know that's only if I complete my task."

Lucifer nodded, not looking at her. "And if he's using you as a means to send me back to Hell?"

That gave Azrael a moment's pause. "I don't think that's it." When Lucifer turned away, getting to his feet with a wordless noise of disbelief, she stood as well. "Brother, how long ago did Amenadiel come here to ask you to return to Hell? He seems like the logical choice for that particular chore, not me, and yet here you are."

Shaking his head, Lucifer observed, "But Dad's a sneaky, manipulative bastard. We really have no idea what he's planning."

Azrael nodded thoughtfully, getting up from the piano bench and moving to a chair. "True," she acknowledged. "But when Michael came to take me home, it was right after Chloe and Trixie had seen my wings. I mean, that must have been what he wanted me to do, or at least part of it. Chloe knows about you, now, and that seems to be a good thing, right?" Lucifer nodded in rather suspicious acknowledgement, and Azrael continued, "So Dad sort of did you a favor."

She knew as soon as she said it that she'd made a mistake. Lucifer's expression darkened. "A favor," he repeated. "I don't need his bloody favors."

"Okay," Azrael backpedaled. "You don't, I agree. Maybe it's nothing to do with you." Hearing Lucifer's derisive snort, she grimaced. "Look, I'll ask Josh, okay? I'll see if he has any idea."

"He won't tell you," Lucifer replied flatly.

Azrael exhaled a soft exasperated noise. "What do you want me to say, brother? I'm trying."

Her brother didn't respond, instead crossing back to the piano.

"This is your home, Lucifer," Azrael said, bowing her head. "I can see why you like it here. But even if I had my body, my powers... this isn't home for me. I wish it could be. Then all this would be a lot easier. But it's not."

Lucifer nodded once more. "I understand," he said, sounding pained. "You'll do what he wants, and then you'll leave."

She couldn't deny it. "I'm sorry." She risked a glance at him, then added, "If you really don't want me to stay here, I understand."

Lucifer looked over, surprised. "Where would you go?"

"I'd figure it out."

Lucifer sighed, moving to pour himself a drink. "Whether you're here or not, you're still going to do whatever it is?"

Azrael nodded mutely.

"Then you may as well stay," Lucifer concluded gracelessly.

Azrael nodded once more and got to her feet. "If you change your mind..."

Lucifer looked over with a bleak smile. "Oh, you'll know."

Azrael paused in the hallway and turned back to her brother. "If I really thought it meant you going back to Hell," she said, her voice serious, "Then I wouldn't do it. I'd leave, go back to my house or... I don't know, anywhere else. I wouldn't do that to you." She hesitated a moment, then added, "And I did miss you, while I was gone."

As Azrael closed her door behind her, she heard a sharp, discordant sound, as if someone had smashed a hand onto a piano keyboard. She sighed and pulled out her phone. As she waited for it to start up, she curled up on the bed, cocooning herself in her wings. The phone's screen lit and the notifications began to scroll. As expected, she had increasingly worried messages from Trixie on every possible platform. What surprised her, though, were the others.

The day after the play, Ella had texted several different movie titles and an enthusiastic list of emoji that Azrael assumed was an invitation, and Chloe had sent a message asking if everything was okay, mentioning that Trixie was expecting her. Scrolling further, she saw inquiries from several people at St. Brennan's, including both Mary Grace and Father Joe. Even Jack - how had he gotten her number? - had texted an apology for what happened after the play, and a plea for her to come back to church. Poor kid; he really had no idea. There were further messages from Chloe and Ella, an offer to talk from Linda, and even a tentative query from Trixie's father.

It wasn't just the humans in her life who had left messages. Amenadiel had texted something that, while innocuous, still somehow managed to sound ominous. Her mother of all people had sent _It's your mother. Your little bug was here looking for you. Are you all right?_ Azrael wasn't entirely sure that her mother grasped the concept that the phone actually let her know who sent texts. She had to smile at the attempt, though.

Perhaps most concerning was the message from Maze: _Get your ass back here. You made the little human cry._ Yeah, that didn't bode well.

Still, as Azrael scrolled through the messages once more, she felt a warm sensation in her chest, a pricking at her eyes. These humans, they cared about her. They cared about - she allowed herself to think it, with the possibility now on the table once more - the Angel of Death. More overwhelming was the thought that she'd grown to care for them, too. She'd spent millenia on humanity's periphery, snatching glimpses of their lives as she coasted through, but all this had happened in only a few short weeks, a blink of an eye.

Azrael took a deep breath, then started replying to the texts. She had amends to make.


	15. Proper Cup of Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azrael goes to Josh in the hopes of getting answers, and receives help from an unexpected source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from the Trout Fishing in America song.

Azrael sat on the bench outside Beelzebean, her hands lightly clasped, though she kept her eyes open. That feeling she'd had since she left the penthouse, that creepy, being-watched feeling that prickled the space between her shoulder blades, had not gone away and, quite frankly, she wanted to put a wall between herself and whatever was causing it. _Come on, come on._ After a moment, she felt a hand on her shoulder and she smiled up at Josh, tugging her bag onto her shoulder.

"Want to get a coffee?" she queried, getting to her feet and edging toward the building behind her.

Her brother regarded her in some puzzlement. "You called me down here for coffee?" He considered that, then shrugged agreeably. "Okay, but you're buying."

Azrael smiled a little. "What, did I interrupted your halo-polishing?" She smiled as Josh held the door for her. The creepy feeling faded a little as the door closed behind her, but still nagged at her. She looked back outside, but didn't see anything. Maybe it was nothing. _Paranoid_. 

"Oh, the snark is strong," Josh teased. "There's Lucifer's influence, I see."

"Hey," Azrael protested as she queued up. "I'll have you know I was snarky long before I came here."

Josh nodded, agreeing, "That's very true, but you and Lucifer go way back, too."

"Not everything is his fault, Josh," Azrael said pointedly, before turning to the barista and requesting, "Please give me whatever has the most caffeine in the biggest possible size." Seeing the barista glance to Josh, she protested, "You don't need to check with my brother."

"Maybe she just wants to know what I want," Josh suggested mildly, adding, "Archangel Dreams tea, please. Large." Seeing Azrael's raised eyebrow, he added innocently, "I hear it's heavenly."

Azrael rested her bag on the counter, the better to dig through it for her cash. The barista gave her the total and took their names, adding, "I love your bag."

Azrael beamed, giving the bag a fond pat. It was dark gray and emblazoned with a My Little Pony: white with a black mane and tail, and a black skull in place of the usual cutie mark. "Thanks," Azrael replied brightly as she handed over the cash. "I got it on Etsy." She tucked a bill in the tip jar and headed for a four-top near the window. She glanced at the street, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

Josh followed, eyeing the bag with interest. "Pale horse, huh? Cute."

Azrael smiled. "Michael made fun of me with this franchise. I figured it's more fun to own it."

"Best not to let him get under your skin," Josh agreed. "It's so much more entertaining that way." He studied Azrael, then said, "You look a lot better. More centered."

Azrael looked up with a smile as their drinks were delivered - hers was labeled Ray - and then nodded at Josh. "I feel better. Sleeping most of yesterday helped a lot." She sipped her drink before saying plainly, "I don't know how long I'm going to be here, but now I know Dad doesn't mean it to be permanent, as long as I toe the line. Just knowing that... it helps."

"Is it so bad here?" Josh queried. He sampled his own beverage, and his brows lifted. "Nice."

"No," Azrael replied, though she sounded a little subdued. "Actually, it's... I don't know." She frowned a little, shaking her head. "Now that I'm not moping about my situation, I like it here, really; I swear, before I was one emo song away from dyeing my hair black."

Josh grinned. "You know that's not a good look for you."

Azrael nodded. "Especially not in this body," she agreed.

There were a few moments of companionable silence, then Josh suggested, "Not that this isn't pleasant and all, sis..."

"...but you know I didn't just call you down here for coffee - or, um, Archangel Dreams. Right." Azrael took another swallow of her drink and set the cup aside. "Why did Dad send me here?"

His expression pained, Josh replied, "Even if I had all the answers - which I don't - you know I can't tell you that."

Azrael took a little time to gather her next words: a reasoned argument, rather than the whining protest of the child she appeared to be. "I don't know that, Josh. I know he won't tell me _what_ he wants me to do, and I accept that. But can't you give me a little hint to his motivation? I mean, that whole thing with Trixie and Chloe would have been a lot less nerve-wracking if I'd known that there weren't going to be reprisals from upstairs."

Josh leaned back in his seat. "There's a pet store across the street," he observed, looking out the window. "Want to go look at puppies after we're done here?"

Azrael looked at her brother as if he'd grown a second head. "What are you talking about?"

"Puppies," Josh replied, with a gesture toward the window and, presumably, the store beyond. "Baby dogs. You'd like them."

Shaking her head, Azrael said, "Of course I like puppies, but are you seriously trying to distract me with cute, small animals? I'm not really a kid; you get that, right?" Azrael pressed, a little more loudly, "I could really use some help with this. Lucifer, he's -"

"Is everything okay?"

Azrael turned and, seeing a familiar face to go with the familiar voice, smiled. "Linda. How nice to see you. Care to join us?"

The chair nearest to Linda moved closer to her, but the therapist glanced down in time to see Azrael's foot doing the shoving, rather than some weird, angelic telekinesis. There was that, at least. "For a few minutes," she agreed, taking the seat. Turning to Josh with a smile, she said, "I'm Linda, as Rae just said - Linda Martin. Nice to meet you."

Josh offered a hand. "These days, I'm going by Josh. Good to meet you as well."

Linda shook Josh's hand for just a little too long, sending a wide-eyed look to Azrael. "Josh, as in...?"

"Yeah." Azrael reached to take Linda's cup from her slackening grasp and set it on the table, her manner contrite. "Sorry. There's no gentle way to break that. But at least it's not Dad."

Linda finally retrieved her hand from Josh's, murmuring, "Oh, my God." She paused, fumbling for wirds, then added, "Sorry, I didn't mean..."

"It's fine," Josh reassured. "And, well, only if you believe in the trinity. I'd rather not overstep, honestly; Dad's the one in charge. Sorry I missed you yesterday. I wanted to get the rental car back before closing."

Linda closed her eyes for a moment, murmuring, "Jesus returns rental cars." She looked over at Azrael, taking a sharp breath as the rest of Azrael's words registered. "Your father? He's not... dropping by, is he?"

"I hope not," Azrael replied bluntly, with a faint grimace. She sent a look of inquiry to Josh; he shrugged in response.

Linda finally looked at Josh, and then it was as if she couldn't look away. "Well, you're right," she said to Azrael. "He's not blond."

Josh looked a little puzzled. "Sometimes my hair lightens up a bit when I'm outside a lot - surfing, and the like - but never that much."

"Those pictures," Azrael supplied. "The ones where you're all square-jawed?"

Josh's expression cleared. "Right, those. Okay." He glanced at Linda, who was still studying him and mouthing _surfing_. "Are you all right?"

Linda took a moment, clearly pulling herself back into focus, then summoned a smile. "Yes," she replied, a little more certainty coloring her voice as Josh smiled at her, "Yes. Thank you."

Azrael shook her head, amused. "Lucifer solves crimes, I like musical theater, and Josh cheats at surfing -"

"I don't cheat," he protested, though he smiled.

Azrael ignored her brother, concluding, "We're just regular people, Linda."

"No, you're not." Linda spoke with absolute certainly.

Azrael considered that. "No, we're not," she agreed. "But we do regular people _things_." She nudged Josh and nodded to something behind Linda, eliciting a sigh from her brother.

Half-turning in her seat, Linda saw that Azrael had indicated a man waiting for a to-go order, his shirt proclaiming, _Jesus: Our Only Hope_. Turning back to see Josh's sheepish expression Linda asked candidly, "What do you think when you see something like that?"

"Well, I disagree," Josh replied with a small smile. "I mean, I'm glad to be considered _a_ hope, for those who believe, but hardly the only one. If it's all on me, well... that's a lot of pressure, right?" Still, he didn't seem at all upset, instead adding, "Humanity has provided plenty of reasons for hope all on its own. "

Linda nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I'm glad you find hope in us. Sometimes that can be hard to see." She glanced over at Azrael who was frowning as she peered out the window, and added, "But I'm interrupting..."

Azrael shook her head, refocusing on the others at her table. "No, really, you're not." At Linda's raised brow, she added, "We were talking, but... actually -" She hesitated, then said, "Without this coming off as a request for therapy when you're clearly not working..."

Linda smiled, though not without an internal sigh. "Yes?"

"Rae, she's just trying to get a coffee," Josh protested.

"You're just saying that because you know she'd pick my side," Azrael replied, with a smile.

Linda shook her head. "I wouldn't choose sides," she said firmly. Darting a glance between the siblings, she added, "Especially these sides. That seems like it could potentially have... consequences." Seeing Azrael deflate a little, she added, "But I'd be happy to listen."

Josh shook his head. "Rae, how do you think this will help?"

"Linda's helpful," Azrael replied. "She helps Lucifer."

Josh said quickly to Linda, "I never intended to imply that you don't; we all know how great you've been for him."

"That's... just a little disturbing," Linda decided. Eyes narrowing, she asked, "You don't spy on our sessions, do you?"

"I don't," Josh said quickly. "I can't speak for anybody else. Probably not, though."

Linda sighed. "Because I need another level of paranoia in my life..." She shook her head and then drew herself upward a bit, focusing. "Rae, what did you want to talk about?"

Azrael took a long drink of coffee, then got down to business. "Well, Dad sent me here to accomplish a task," she began.

Linda lifted a hand. "But you said he sent you here because you lost something."

Azrael shook her head. "My brother Michael misinformed me," she said lightly. "It's a task. Well, probably more than one. And kind of... a vacation."

"Okay," Linda said, drawing out the word to give herself time to think. "What's the task?" Seeing Azrael's triumphant look to Josh, Linda added quickly, "That wasn't picking sides!"

"She doesn't know what the task is," Josh explained. "But she'll do it." Turning to his sister, he added, "Rae, Dad knows what he's doing. You have to have faith. Even a little, like a -"

Azrael groaned. "Not the mustard seed again, Josh. Nobody gets the mustard seed."

"Matthew did," Josh replied, his brows lowering. "Really, it's not a tough concept. It starts out small, and -"

Azrael reached over and patted her little brother's hand, her expression sympathetic and just a little amused, "He was just trying to make you feel better."

Linda watched the pair with fascination.

Azrael, catching her gaze, grinned briefly. "Yes, that Matthew." Sobering, she added, "I know he's not going to tell me what I'm supposed to do. He made that very clear. But I'd like to know why. Why me, why here?"

Josh sighed. "You're splitting hairs. If I told you why, that would basically be the same thing as telling you what."

Linda shifted forward in her chair, drawing the attention of the siblings and grimacing just a bit at the weight of their regard. Still, she asked, "Rae, why does it matter so much for you to know why?"

Azrael cast a frustrated look at her brother then looked down at the table for a moment, tracing one finger around a coffee stain. "Wouldn't you want to know?" she asked softly. "I mean, knowing who our father is, if you knew he wanted you to do something but wouldn't tell you what it was?" She sighed, raking a hand through her hair to rub at the back of her neck, then glanced out the window.

Linda nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose I would," she agreed slowly. Turning to Josh, she asked, "Did your father ask you not to tell her?"

"Not in so many words, but the implication was there," Josh replied.

Azrael shifted back in her chair and looked over at her brother. "And you're not going to cross Dad." Her words were a statement of fact, with no criticism evident. She of all beings, after all, could hardly take offense at paternal obedience. "Okay, what about answering a very specific question?"

"I'd have to hear it before I can say," Josh replied, his expression serious.

Linda finally took a drink of her coffee. Of course, it was no longer hot. Of course.

Azrael lowered her voice, looking intently at her brother as she spoke. "What he wants me to do, will it result in Lucifer going back to Hell?"

Linda turned sharply to look at Josh, who didn't answer immediately. Finally, when he had considered his answer long enough that a look of impatience crossed Azrael's face, he said, "I don't think so, but I'm not Uriel. I can't see the patterns the way he could. That's not the intended immediate effect, though."

"Good," Azrael replied, though she still looked as if she would have preferred a more definitive answer. "Thanks, Josh. I appreciate it."

Josh nodded, though not without a hint of unease. "I should get back," he said, resting a hand briefly on Azrael's shoulder. "Linda, it was nice meeting you. Good luck with my family."

"Thanks," Linda replied, with a wan smile. "I'll probably need it."

Azrael watched Josh depart, then took a drink of her coffee. "Ugh, cold," she murmured, making a wry face. She looked over at Linda, asking, "So how are you?"

"This is almost starting to feel routine," the therapist replied, with a sigh. "I don't know what that says about me."

Azrael smiled. "I'll try for more warning if another of my siblings shows up, but I didn't know you'd be here."

Linda made a vague, dismissive gesture with one hand, studying Azrael as she did so. "Are they likely to do that?"

Azrael shrugged, glancing out the window. "Honestly, I have no idea. Raf and Michael have been here. Gabriel shows up occasionally, though I haven't seen him lately - you'd like him, everyone does." She got to her feet, adding, "Josh said there's a pet store across the street. Want to go look at puppies?"

Linda laughed, shaking her head. "You know what? Why not."

Azrael got to her feet and grabbed her cup, tossing it in a nearby trash can. "Puppy therapy," she quipped. An idea struck her, and she turned to Linda. "Do you have someone to talk to? I mean, you've gone through some stuff with all this, I'll bet."

"Oh, I have," Linda agreed. "But who would I tell? I can talk to Maze, though, and it helps that Chloe knows, too, for..." Linda took in the nearby people in the coffeehouse and elided her words. "... someone with an experience more like mine."

"Well, I'm always glad to chat, if you like," Azrael offered. "Or just listen. Goodness knows, my family can inspire some rants." Linda nodded noncommittally, and Azrael smiled. "On to the puppies? Won't be the weirdest thing you've done today."

"Truer words were never spoken," Linda replied as she stood, her voice utterly sincere.


	16. Fathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As requested by Trixie, Azrael shows up at the Decker/Smith residence. Coffee, dishes, fathers, and Occam's Razor.

Chloe opened the door, surprised to see Azrael waiting and more surprised to see the departing Lyft. Brows lifting, she said, "Trixie's not getting home for a while yet."

"I know," Azrael replied. Seeing Chloe's puzzled look, she clarified, "That's not some weird angel trick. She SnapChatted me last night."

Chloe chuckled, her expression clearing. Gesturing after the departing car as she pulled open the door to let Azrael in, she queried, "Couldn't you have just flown here? Why pay for a Lyft and sit in traffic?"

Azrael murmured her thanks as she entered, looking over her shoulder as she closed the door. "Traffic's less awful if you're not the one driving," she opined. "I did a little reading, a little thinking. And money isn't exactly an issue." Seeing that Chloe wasn't going to let the first question go, she admitted a little evasively, "There are a lot of people in this city, and I'm kind of paranoid about showing my wings now, after you and Trixie saw them."

Chloe nodded as she stepped back to the kitchen. "You did seem surprised that we saw them," she allowed. "What, do you usually have some sort of... cloaking device on them or something?"

Azrael brightened as she followed and climbed into a seat at the breakfast bar. "Oh, like Star Trek? Ella told me about Star Trek," she explained, "And I looked it up. It's something like that, only not a device, just an innate ability. I'm supposed to have it - Raphael said - but now I'm not so sure. And it's not like I want to pull them out and wander around asking people, 'Hey, do I have something on my back?'" She chuckled at the mental image, then added more seriously, "If people could see them, well, that would be bad." She frowned thoughtfully, murmuring, "Maybe Linda. She hasn't seen them, and she already knows... though maybe she'd appreciate not getting involved, for once."

"Did you get in trouble over us seeing your wings?" Chloe asked, concerned. "What happened with your father? Lucifer said you two, uh, had a chat."

Azrael shook her head, though she didn't elaborate further. "Is that coffee back there?" she asked hopefully. "Black's fine."

Chloe took the hint and poured Azrael a mug, adding, "I understand intellectually that you're a lot older than you look, but I have to say that giving you coffee feels pretty weird."

Azrael took the mug with a murmur of thanks, saying dryly, " _That's_ the weird part?"

Chloe laughed, shaking her head. "Rae, there is so much weird in all this that sometimes it's just easier to focus on the coffee." She poured herself some coffee as well and said casually, "Your brother does that, too - changes the subject when he doesn't want to tell me something."

Azrael shrugged, saying mildly, "I don't think that's just an angelic trait, though. And, well, better avoidance than lying."

"I notice you still didn't answer my question," Chloe observed.

Azrael nodded. "Funny how that works out, huh?"

Making a wry face, Chloe said, "You were a lot easier to deal with when you were pretending to be eleven."

"Sorry," Azrael replied, her lips curving in the smallest of smiles. "I'm just still figuring out everything with Dad. He's... it was sort of involved."

"Imagine that," Chloe observed, shaking her head.

Azrael took a drink, then asked, "How... how has Lucifer been lately?"

Chloe regarded the girl for a moment. "You live with him, and you're asking me this?"

Azrael shifted in her chair. "I slept a lot yesterday, and today he was gone before I got up." Looking away from the Detective's steady gaze, she added, "We had a talk the night I got back... maybe a little too much honesty. But if I lied to him, even to try and make him feel better, that would have been worse." She sighed ruefully, adding, "He can tell when I lie."

"Is _that_ a weird angel trick?" Chloe asked, her smile still a little disbelieving.

Azrael shook her head. "Big brother trick," she replied succinctly. "Not weird at all. He caught me out too many times when I was little, knows my tells."

Chloe frowned as she realized, "Wait, angels lie?"

Nodding ruefully, Azrael replied, "It's not all harps and rainbows upstairs, no matter what the stories say."

Chloe leaned against the breakfast bar, her expression thoughtful. "So, what, you and Lucifer had a fight and now you're not talking?"

"Not a fight," Azrael clarified. "Just... things got a little intense. And now we're kind of avoiding each other." Taking in Chloe's raised eyebrows, she added, "What, you think you guys invented passive-aggressive behavior? That one started with Dad a long time ago. _Cain, where's your brother?_ " she quipped, deepening her voice. Dropping into her regular tone, she added wryly, "Like he didn't know."

"Huh, you're snarky today," Chloe observed.

Looking up from her coffee, Azrael replied, "You're the second person to tell me that. Don't worry; I'll get it out of my system before Trixie gets home." She smiled, adding, "Are you going to answer my question about Lucifer, or were you distracting me to avoid it?"

"What? No." Chloe started to shift some dirty dishes into the sink. "He's been... well, a little off, now that I think about it."

Azrael slid down from the stool, bringing over her mug. "I can do those," she offered. "I like doing dishes."

Chloe stared at her a moment, then joked, "Now there's real proof that you're an angel. Want to move in? We could use someone who likes doing dishes."

"Ha, careful what you wish for." Azrael rolled up her sleeves, turned on the water, and grabbed the dish soap. "Warm water, bubbles, making things clean - and, no, that's not a metaphor. It's nice to accomplish something I can see." She frowned a little, adding, "How is Luci being off?"

Chloe took her coffee to the breakfast bar, watching Azrael start on the dishes. "This is weirder than coffee," she decided. "An angel doing my dishes."

Azrael grinned. "Is there some sort of scale? Wings on one end, coffee on the other?" Still, she was clearly waiting for an answer to her question about her brother.

Chloe chuckled and nodded, then said thoughtfully, "It's not anything too awful. He just keeps looking at me when he doesn't think I'm watching."

"But you are?" Azrael queried.

Chloe nodded. "I'm pretty much always watching." Seeing Azrael's sudden, knowing smile, she amended, "Not like that. Just... detective. I watch."

Azrael shrugged agreeably, humming over her dishes for a moment. "How he was looking at you was different than usual?"

Chloe nodded once more. "Like he was trying to figure something out."

Azrael grimaced. "Okay, yeah. That's probably because I told him I thought Dad sent me to show you and Trixie my wings, so you'd know who he really is."

"Well, it's not like he hasn't been telling me who he is since I've known him," Chloe replied.

"Right," Azrael agreed, frowning a moment over a particularly stubborn bit of dried food on one of the plates. Looking over, she added, "But would you ever have believed him without some really obvious evidence?"

Chloe shook her head, straightening a stack of Trixie's drawings. "Apparently not, though looking back I'm embarrassed at how long I let myself ignore it. I mean, some of what I saw _was_ really obvious evidence."

Azrael shrugged, rinsing off the plate and tucking it into the drying rack. "It's easier to ignore something that's that far outside of your sphere of experience."

Chloe got up and came over to start drying the dishes. "True, but some of the things that happened... I still think I should have caught on earlier." She's frowned as she put away the dry plate. "Is he upset that I know? He seemed okay with it."

Azrael shook her head. "No. Or, well, not with you." She handed over another plate. "But if Dad sent me to do it..."

Chloe came to the right conclusion. "So he feels manipulated." Azrael nodded, and Chloe paused in her dish-drying to peer at the girl. "Do _you_ feel manipulated?"

Azrael pulled the stopper from the dish drain. "It's just... this is how Dad works, Chloe. Maybe it's harder for Luci because he's been in Hell all this time, away from Dad's influence. Dad needs things to be done, and his children are his instruments." She saw Chloe's expression and clarified softly, an admission, "His tools."

"Rae, he's your father," Chloe protested. "He's using you, manipulating you, and you don't seem to care. That's not how parents should act."

Azrael leaned lightly against the sink, head bowed, one hand braced against the counter. "I care," she replied, her voice still quiet, as if the low volume could keep her words hidden. "I just don't have a choice. He's got me over a barrel." Looking up to see Chloe's frustrated look, she asked, "Don't human parents manipulative their kids?"

"Good ones don't," Chloe flared. "And your father is supposed to be better, right? He's supposed to be this benevolent, compassionate being, but all I see is a guy who treats his kids like crap."

Azrael took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. "Chloe, this is how it's always been," she said finally, her words a plea for understanding.

Chloe shook her head, her lips tight. "That doesn't make it right, Rae." Frowning, she asked, "Have you ever talked to Linda about this?"

Azrael peered at Chloe in confusion. "What, like therapy? No."

"Maybe you should," Chloe suggested. "Rae, he's been doing this to you... forever, right? Maybe talking to Linda could help."

Azrael shook her head, a short, definite gesture. "Chloe, you see my father as... well, a bad parent. To Linda, he's God. I couldn't go to her about this. Plus, she's going to burn out, as much as she's been dealing with my family." She's hesitated, then added lamely, "Dad's not usually this bad. At least, not where I'm concerned. Usually he just... leaves me alone, unless I give him a reason not to."

"Are you listening to yourself?" Chloe demanded. "You're making excuses for him. Between you and Lucifer, he's done things no parent should ever do to a child." Seeing Azrael's tense expression, she relented a little. "Okay, I get not wanting to talk to Linda. But if you ever need to vent or anything, I'm here, yeah?"

Azrael nodded. "Yeah," she echoed softly. "Thanks, Chloe." There was a moment of awkwardness, then Azrael leaned down to look at one of the pictures on the refrigerator: a much-younger Chloe with a police officer. "This your dad?"

Chloe looked over. "Oh... yeah. Trix must have put that there." She smiled, sad but fond, though the smile faded at Azrael's distant expression. For once, she utterly believed that the small girl before had spent millenia as the Angel of Death: her eyes were ageless and profoundly sad. "Did you..." She took a breath, then tried again. "Do you remember him?"

Azrael nodded. Very quietly, she said, "I remember all of them." She smiled a little. "Just better with faces than names, that's all." She ran one hand lightly along the edge of the picture, then turned. "Do you want to hear about it?"

Chloe looked about the room, then stepped past the breakfast bar, sinking to a seat on the couch. "I..." She nodded, unable to speak.

Azrael moved to sit next to Chloe. "He's in the Silver City, of course," she began, dark eyes full of compassion. "It was quick. He didn't suffer, truly." Seeing Chloe's eyes glisten, she reached over to rest a hand lightly on the detective's, concluding softly, "His last thoughts were of you and your mom. He was so proud of you, Chloe."

Chloe clutched tightly at Azrael's hand, a single sob welling up from deep within her before she could stop herself. She couldn't speak for a moment, but then managed, her voice choked, "He would have loved Trixie so much." Azrael nodded, putting a bracing arm around the detective. Chloe continued, a tear rolling unchecked down her cheek, "He missed so much: my wedding, seeing me follow in his path, and Trixie. That's what I'm the saddest about him missing. He would have been the best grandpa, and Trixie would have thought he hung the moon."

"I know this is small comfort," Azrael offered gently, "But he knows her."

"They let people see, from... from the Silver City?" Chloe asked softly.

Azrael smiled. "It would hardly be Heaven if they wouldn't let you see your loved ones."

Chloe smiled, giving Azrael's hand a final squeeze and then releasing it. "That does help. I never thought that hearing something like that would be comforting. It never felt real."

"I promise it is," Azrael replied, gently easing back.

Clearly fumbling for something else, anything else to discuss, Chloe said, "You remember them - us? - all? So... when you told that story about Gilgamesh, you knew him?"

Azrael nodded, with a faint smile. "Nice guy, eventually. He tried to avoid death, but I come for everyone. Well... came." She made a face as she caught her phrasing and added, in an obvious mimicry of Lucifer, "And not in the fun way."

That elicited a chuckle from Chloe, and so she was smiling, though her eyes were still damp, when the door opened and Trixie tumbled into the apartment. The girl's cheerful "Hi, Mommy!" turned into a delighted "Rae!" as the little girl noticed her friend and promptly arrowed around the couch to her.

"Hey, Trixie," Azrael replied, curling an arm around the girl and subtly angling her away from the detective, giving Chloe a moment to pull herself together.

Dan, coming in just after his daughter, greeted Azrael with a pleasant, "Hey, the prodigal returns."

Azrael replied, shaking her head, "No, I'm good with money." Seeing Dan frown a little in puzzlement, she added, "It's come to mean _the ungrateful person who finally got a clue and returned to the fold_ \- thanks for that, by the way - but the original meaning is a spendthrift." Seeing Chloe's sharply elevated eyebrows and a look that was clearly telling her to tone it down, she added brightly, "I read a lot."

Dan just shook his head, though he smiled as he did so. "Sounds like you do," he replied. "Well, welcome back, kiddo. There's a lot of people glad you're home." He caught sight of Chloe and looked concerned, but didn't comment.

Azrael bit back her initial response - that this wasn't her home, that _kiddo_ definitely wasn't appropriate - and instead smiled. "Thanks," she replied. "I'm glad to be back."

Dan claimed a hug from Trixie and made his farewells after confirming plans for a pizza night later in the week.

Closing the door behind her her ex, Chloe shook her head. "Seriously, how did I ever believe you were a little kid?"

"Occam's razor," Azrael observed. Seeing Trixie's frown, the clarified, "The simplest explanation. Which would most people think is more likely: that I'm a regular kid who reads a lot, or that I'm an angel?"

"Regular kid," Trixie replied, with a grin. Looking thoughtful a moment, she asked, "Don't you want to tell people, though?"

Azrael hesitated, then admitted, "Sometimes. But not everybody could handle it the way you and your mom did."

Trixie nodded agreeably, then asked, "Hey can I come to church with you on Sunday?"

Azrael caught Chloe's startled look out of the corner of her eye, and shook her head. "Not this Sunday. I've got to talk to some people afterward." Sliding her feet out of her shoes and folding her legs tailor-fashion, she asked, "Why do you want to go?"

"When we went before, it was fun."

Azrael smiled a little. "It's not usually like that. The play was special. And I'm pretty sure nobody else is going to be showing you their wings in the bathroom, if that's what you're hoping for," she teased.

Trixie grinned. "I know," she replied. "But I still want to go."

"I think," Azrael suggested, "that this is something that you and your mom should figure out together. And while I like St. Brennan's a lot, there are plenty of churches in the area. Catholicism can be kind of intimidating for newcomers."

Trixie looked a little dubious, but nodded, dismissing the subject for now. Leaning past Azrael to address her mother, she asked, "Can we bake cookies, Mommy?"

"Sure, baby," Chloe agreed, with a smile.

After the cookies and the stories and the impromptu dance party that Azrael, after some wheedling, joined, it was time for her to leave. Azrael hesitated by the door. "Hey, this is probably nothing..."

"What is it?" Chloe asked.

"I've just had this feeling that somebody's been following me," Azrael confessed. "Or, well, something. When I left Lucifer's place this morning, and then at Beelzebean and the pet store... even when I was waiting for you to get the door. I keep looking," she added, with a touch of annoyance, "But I don't see anything."

Chloe's gaze sharpened, and she looked out the window. "Do you want me to take you back to Lux?"

Azrael shook her head. "No, thanks. The car's already here. I just wanted someone to know, in case this is more than a creepy feeling. And maybe..." She looked a little sheepish. "Maybe watch that I get to the Lyft okay?"

Chloe nodded, her concern obvious. "Of course," she agreed. "Have a good night, yeah?"

Azrael smiled. "You, too, Chloe."


	17. The Great Egress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title from that story about P. T. Barnum's way to get people to leave his American Museum.

Azrael hummed under her breath as she rode the elevator up to the penthouse at Lux. The being-watched feeling had persisted as she made her way to the Lyft, but was gone when she left the car and went into Lux; apparently her stalker had vanished somewhere between the two destinations, and the relief made her feel a little giddy. The bag of chocolate chip cookies she'd brought with her as a peace offering for Lucifer didn't hurt, either. She pulled off her jacket and tossed it over the back of the couch, dropping the bag of cookies on the seat.

"Luci, are you here?" she called, though the room's darkness answered her question. Still, she listened for a moment and then peered into his bedroom, just in case.

Her back to the main penthouse, she froze as the being-watched feeling returned at ten times the intensity. Ice crept up her spine, and she didn't even have time to scream before she found herself whirled around at a dizzying speed and then slammed against the wall, face to face with an infuriated demon.

"Mazikeen," Azrael breathed, relaxing fractionally.

She should not have relaxed, not even a little. The demon hoisted her higher, pushing her hard enough against the wall that the carvings on its surface gouged her back; hard enough, she realized, that she couldn't unfurl her wings.

"What -" Azrael began, but Maze shoved her still harder against the wall.

"Shut up," the demon growled.

Azrael shut up.

"You're leaving," Maze informed her grimly. "Get your stuff and go."

Azrael pursed her lips, then shook her head.

"Fine," the demon snapped. "Don't take your stuff. But you're leaving if I have to throw you out of here myself." She looked significantly toward the balcony.

Azrael exhaled a short, derisive sound, though not without an uneasy flicker of a glance toward the balcony. "I do have wings, in case you -"

With her free hand, Maze backhanded Azrael across the mouth. "Should have done that last time."

Azrael sucked in a breath, blinking hard. It hurt, but she knew the demon was capable of dealing out far more pain with such a blow. She was restraining herself? "Mazikeen, why -" She cut off her words when the demon lifted her hand once more.

"You're going to leave anyway," Maze said, biting each word. "You might as well do it now."

Azrael shook her head once more, risking a single word. "No."

Maze's hand flashed behind her back. She released Azrael, the girl landing on her feet with a jarring thud, and then Maze shoved her against the wall once more, one of her demon-forged blades appearing at Azrael's throat.

That gave Azrael a moment's pause; her attention focused on the knife. She took a careful breath, holding herself as still as she could manage. "Why?" she repeated, though this time her voice was quiet and restrained.

"You're no good for Lucifer," Maze replied, her words as sharp as her blade. "You picked your father over him, like everyone else in your family."

Azrael began, "I didn't -" but Maze shifted her knife and Azrael suddenly decided that silence was the better choice.

"The worst thing is that you don't even get it," Maze spat. "You came here, you got all buddy-buddy with him, and you're just going to leave as soon as Daddy says you can. You don't even realize what it's doing to him." Azrael looked as if Maze had slapped her again, but the demon continued, relentless. "So you're leaving before you can screw things up even more. Today. Now."

Azrael took another careful breath and tried to back away from the demon, though the wall behind her made that impossible. Suddenly uncomfortably aware of the saliva in her mouth, she wanted to swallow, but the nearness of the blade made her wary of doing anything that might cause her throat to move. "I can't," she whispered.

Maze stepped closer, casually disregarding her invasion of Azrael's personal space, until only the demon's superior height kept them from being nose-to-nose. "I don't know why you think you have a choice in the matter, Tiny Death."

The laugh that escaped Azrael was a soft, bitter sound. "Since when do I have a choice in _anything_ that really matters? You know what? Go ahead." She lifted her chin, providing easier access for Maze's blade. Her dark eyes held challenge, but also, buried deep, a certain desperation. "Do it. He'll just send me back in another body." She hesitated a moment, some of the bravado leaving her manner. Her voice lowered as she continued, "Just... clean up after yourself. I don't want Lucifer finding this body like that. And you get to explain to Trixie where her friend went."

Unlike the evening of the play, this time it was Maze's hand that trembled, her knife grazing Azrael's throat. It was a shallow cut, missing anything vital, with no real damage, but Maze still muttered a curse. Careless. She had expected arguments, pleading... anything but this despairing acquiescence. The demon let out a roar of frustration at her inability to finish the job and drove her hand into the wall near Azrael's head, pulling the knife away from Azrael's throat as she did so.

Azrael clapped a hand to the wound, turning to stare wide-eyed at the wall. It... something... drew her. A glint from within caught her attention and she reached into the crack left by Maze's blow, her hand just barely fitting through the space in the wall.

The instant she touched it, she felt a surge along her arm, almost electrical. Her hand went numb for a moment, fingers reflexively tightening around the hilt. She drew out the familiar shape of her blade, and a shudder rippled through her body. Stunned, she curled around the blade like a child with a favorite toy, her eyes closing tightly. "Get Lucifer," she demanded through clenched teeth.

The demon hesitated. She didn't think Azrael had a grudge against Lucifer; all the interactions she'd seen between them lately had been pleasant, or at least amicable. Still, the millenia-long habit of protecting him was hard to shake, and she knew she didn't want him anywhere near this situation.

Azrael opened her eyes. They had gone completely black. "Get. Lucifer," she repeated. " _Now_."

"No way," Maze replied, backing up a step. A second knife appeared in her free hand.

Azrael let her eyes sink closed, another tremor rocking her body. "Please."

The word was barely audible, but it twisted in the demon like one of her own knives. She didn't care what happened to Lucifer's stupid little sister. She _didn't_. Almost reaching for her phone, she retreated another step, hating both the motion and the uncertainty that caused it.

Unfortunately for Maze, or perhaps fortunately, Azrael wasn't the only one without a choice in the matter. The elevator doors opened, and Lucifer called as he strode into the penthouse, "Rae, the Detective called and told me that she sent you off with cookies. If you've eaten them all, I'm definitely going to have to -"

"Get back," Maze shouted, moving to put herself between Lucifer and his sister.

Lucifer peered at the demon in amused puzzlement, not yet having noticed his sister huddled against the wall. "We can go halfsies if you'd like, but you can't have _all_ the cookies, Maze. And I'm sure the Detective saved some back at your place. No need to get all stabby."

"Will you _shut up_ and get out of here?" Maze disappeared a knife and grabbed Lucifer's arm, shoving him back toward the elevator.

Lucifer detoured around his demon despite Maze's protests. "Here now, what are you...?" He caught sight of his sister and the hole in the wall at the same time, and his expression went deadly serious. "Azrael," he said quietly. "Little sister, what have you done?" She opened her eyes, and Lucifer recoiled a step.

"You see?" Maze urged, tugging at his arm once more. "Lucifer, _go_. I'll handle this, just leave."

"That's an interesting side effect," Lucifer said, his wary expression giving the lie to his light tone. He turned to Maze, his gaze lingering on the knife she still held. "None of that," he said sharply. Maze put away the knife, though they both knew she could re-arm herself in seconds.

Azrael took a step closer to the pair, her blade cradled against her chest; apparently she could see well enough, despite the disconcerting darkness of her eyes. Maze again placed herself between the siblings; Lucifer, with an exasperated noise, sidestepped around her once more.

Azrael observed, as she watched the pair maneuver around each other, "It's the new dance craze sweeping the nation." It would have been amusing, if not for the tremor in her voice. She extended her hand - and the blade - toward her brother. "Take it. Please. I can't keep it together much longer."

"Are you serious?" Maze demanded, as Lucifer stepped toward his sister, his own outstretched hand mirroring hers. "Stay away; you know what she can do with that knife."

"I didn't use it on you, Mazikeen," Azrael snapped, her focus shifting to the demon. "And I've far more reason to want you destroyed."

Lucifer took a step toward Azrael, and she turned her gaze to him once more. "Just give me the blade, little sister," he urged.

"It's mine," Azrael flared, though she grimaced as soon as the words left her mouth, clearly frustrated. She closed her eyes and inhaled a slow, trembling breath, trying desperately to regain control. Without opening her eyes she said, "I can't. You're going to have to take it from me, brother." It was a plea, not a challenge.

Lucifer caught Maze's eye and nodded toward Azrael. Maze echoed the nod and moved to stand behind Azrael, ready to intervene. Lucifer stepped closer to his sister and took her wrist in his hand, painstakingly careful of the angle of the blade. For a moment, he remembered a shattered church, another encounter with a sibling and this blade; he shoved away that memory. Dropping into the language of angels, he used his most soothing, most hypnotic tone. "Let go, Azrael."

She lifted her head sharply, startled by the hearing that language from this of all her brothers. "I can't," she repeated.

Lucifer maintained his grip on his sister's wrist, curling his fingers around hers. "You can," he encouraged, but Azrael shook her head, her eyes still tightly closed. He looked past her to lock eyes with his demon, then turned his attention back to Azrael. "Right. Maze is going to -"

Maze did not give him time to alert the girl, just stepped in smoothly to seize her from behind, a bear hug that secured her arms just above her elbows. Maze may have done better to let Lucifer deliver his warning, for Azrael responded with terrified violence, struggling against the demon's grip even as she used the solidity of Maze's body as leverage to kick up, out... anywhere, her feet flailing wildly. Eyes resolutely closed, she nonetheless caught Lucifer hard in the celiac plexus - more by luck, if you can call it that, than by design - and then again under his chin as he bent over, gasping. Through all that, he maintained an iron grip on her wrist, always mindful of the blade.

"How can you -" Lucifer managed, trying to put a little distance between himself and his struggling sister while still keeping hold of her wrist. Shaking his head, he added, "Maze, let her go."

The demon shook her head, giving him a level look. "I can handle this. Drop her arm."

For a miracle, Lucifer obeyed, rubbing his chin as he stepped out of range.

Maze loosened her grip on Azrael just a little bit, murmuring, "Relax, TD."

Azrael tried desperately to pull the blade closer to herself, though she was thwarted by Maze's grip on her arms.

"Maze," Lucifer urged, reaching for Azrael once more, but the demon shook her head.

"Wait," Maze instructed. She was silent for a moment, not reacting to Azrael's attempts to free herself. "TD, you're doing it wrong. What's the first step?" Seeing no change in the girl's reaction, she said, her voice low but intent, " _Azrael_."

There's power in a name. Azrael went utterly still, then delivered a swift kick just to the demon's ankle.

"Now what?" Maze prompted, no softness in her voice. When Azrael hesitated, Maze said, "You know what to do, but you can't do it while you're holding that knife." She gave Lucifer a significant look: *now*.

Lucifer stepped forward, his voice all honey and silk as he urged, "Give me the blade, Rae."

Azrael's grip finally slackened, and the knife fell hilt-first into Lucifer's waiting hands.

Lucifer stepped back, relief clear on his face. "Let her go now."

Maze snorted, tightening her grip. "She knows this one. C'mon, TD. _Do it._ "

In a flurry of motion, Azrael repeated the kick, then jumped forward just a bit, lowering her body as she landed and eeling out of Maze's grip. She reached over one shoulder to grab Maze's arm, then stepped forward, throwing Maze over her shoulder. The demon rolled smoothly to land on her feet.

Breathing hard, Azrael opened her eyes to reveal that they had returned to their normal brown. She looked down at her trembling hands, surprised to find them empty, then over to where Maze waited, arms folded over her chest. "Thank you."

The demon didn't smile. "About time you figured out that throw."

Azrael turned to her brother, her gaze dropping after a moment, and then crossed to get glasses and alcohol.

"How, exactly, did all this come about?" Lucifer demanded. Taking a closer look at his sister, he realized, "Rae, you're bleeding. What's happened?"

Azrael didn't answer, but instead poured three drinks before making her way back to the couch, where she claimed the cookies and brought them to the glasses. She opened the zip-lock bag - gallon-sized; Chloe had been generous - though she opted for alcohol over baked goods. Settling into a seat, she drank grimly, as if aiming for oblivion.

Lucifer watched her for a moment, frowning, then crossed to take the other two glasses, offering one to Maze. "Unless all three of those were for you," he added to Azrael, sliding the bottle out of her reach despite her annoyed look. "I'd like to get a little sense out of you first, if you don't mind," he said pointedly. "What happened?"

Azrael shook her head as Maze took the offered drink and downed it in one gulp. "I almost killed your sister," the demon explained bluntly, setting aside the empty glass.

"Literally?" Lucifer demanded, setting aside his untouched glass. Lifting Azrael's blade, he added, incredulous, "With _this_?" He advanced on Maze, his eyes gone hard and dangerous, though they remained brown, ice-cold rather than burning with Hellfire.

"No," Maze replied, not backing down in the slightest. "That was all her." After a pause, she admitted, "After I broke the wall."

Lucifer didn't look concerned with the hole in the wall. Structural repair was a line item in his budget by this point. "Yes," he replied, his tone making it clear that his patience was fraying. "The wall, fine. But why the near-murder?"

"Lucifer," Azrael interrupted, sounding tense. "Please, either put my blade somewhere I can't see it or give me back the alcohol."

Lucifer glanced at the blade then back to Azrael, his brows lowering in puzzlement. "Right," he agreed. "Just a moment." He disappeared into his bedroom, returning empty-handed.

Azrael exhaled a quiet, relieved breath. "Thanks. It's... I can't really explain it, but it's easier if it's not in the room." She rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand, adding, "Maze and I were discussing the fact that she thinks I shouldn't be here."

"I invited you to stay - more than once, in fact, and I haven't rescinded the invitation," Lucifer replied. He cast an annoyed look at the demon, who seemed a little wary. "So of course you should be here."

Azrael shook her head. "Maybe not," she replied, though it clearly pained her to say it. "Maybe I shouldn't. Bad enough that I'm doing... whatever it is Dad sent me here to do. I shouldn't be living here rubbing your nose in it."

Lucifer stared at his sister, his eyes wide and shocked. "You'd just... leave? Rae, that's hardly necessary."

"Look, I don't _want_ to go," Azrael said, obviously meaning it. "I've enjoyed being here with you, Luci." She fumbled with her words, then tried, "I think part of the reason Dad sent me in this body was so I'd be dependent, I'd have to stay. I... maybe that means I should leave."

"Good idea," Maze said tersely, though the bulk of her attention was on Lucifer.

"No, bad idea," Lucifer protested, sinking into a seat and sending a nasty look to Maze. "Where would you go? Rae, no landlord in their right mind would rent to someone who looks like you."

Azrael, thinking fast, said, "I can stay in a hotel until I sort things out; my property manager could find me somewhere more permanent."

Maze, looking as if she didn't entirely believe that Azrael was taking her warning seriously, suggested, "There's always Amenadiel."

"No," Azrael replied flatly. "He'd never agree to it, and I don't think it would go well even if he did."

Shaking his head, Lucifer said, "Why we even discussing this? I've said you can stay."

Maze made an exasperated noise. "Seriously, do I need to spell it out for you?" she asked Lucifer, brushing past him and taking the drink he'd set aside. "Your father wants her to stay here with you, and she's _leaving_." She raised her eyebrows significantly, then downed Lucifer's drink.

Lucifer turned to his sister, expression incredulous, letting the drink-theft pass. "But you don't want to leave."

Azrael shook her head. "I don't," she agreed softly.

"And it would be a rebellion," Lucifer continued, getting a glass and pouring himself a drink.

"A small one," Azrael agreed, though not without a faintly worried frown. "It's not like I haven't indulged in small rebellions before," she added, with a nod toward the bottle of Scotch.

Lucifer, taking the nod as a request, moved to pour Azrael another drink, but she shook her head. "Best get my stuff together," she demurred, subdued. She slid down from her chair and crossed to pull on her jacket.

"What, now?" Lucifer protested. "Surely you can wait until morning."

Azrael rested a hand briefly on her brother's arm. "It's early yet, and if we start listing reasons to put it off, I might not find the courage." She slipped down the hall, and soon after came the soft click of her door closing.

Lucifer drained his drink, then rounded on Maze. "She's leaving!"

"She was always going to leave," the demon replied, though not without compassion. "Lucifer, this is a good thing. It's not quite flipping your old man the bird, but it's a start."

The two sat in silence until Azrael returned, her backpack over her shoulder. "I couldn't fit everything," she said apologetically, "And I'll need to deal with the library books..."

"I can drop them off for you," Lucifer offered.

Azrael murmured her thanks. After a moment of hesitation, she added, "Look, after I've left, call Raziel. He won't come if I'm here - Dad's orders - but he will once I'm gone. Give him the blade. He should have it." Still, her gaze slid toward Lucifer's bedroom.

"Last I checked, it wasn't called _Raziel's Blade_ ," Lucifer replied, shaking his head. "I'll hang on to it for you. You can come get it once you're back to yourself."

Azrael smiled, her eyes glistening suspiciously. "These days, I'm not really sure..." She shook her head, instead saying, "Thanks, brother. I've got my phone," she added. "I'll stay in touch."

Maze, clearly a little impatient with all the emotions, offered, "I can give you a lift, TD?"

"Because that worked out so well last time?" Azrael shook her head, with a wry smile. "I'll get a Lyft." She hesitated rather awkwardly, then stepped in to give Lucifer a quick hug before turning to the elevator. She didn't say anything as the doors closed, but simply watched her brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I got bogged down in the middle at a particularly tricky spot. 
> 
> This version is much nicer than the other one I considered. ;)


	18. The Stopover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azrael makes a stop before finding a place to stay.

It didn't take long for the Lyft to arrive. Azrael got in the car and stared at traffic through her window, ignoring the looks the driver was giving her in the rear view mirror.

Finally, the woman spoke. "You okay back there, baby?"

"Yeah." Something about the way the woman looked at her in the mirror made Azrael straighten out of her slumped posture and amend, "Yes." She didn't add  _ma'am_ , though the word almost escaped her lips.

"You look like you're running away from something."

Azrael shrugged. The driver wasn't entirely wrong.

The woman changed lanes. "Your people know where you are?"

Azrael laughed without humor. "Yes." One of her siblings was probably watching her. Yeah, they knew where she was.

The woman made a quiet tsking sound. "That's too old a laugh for a little girl like you."

Azrael met the woman's gaze in the mirror with a steady look of her own. "I'm not a little girl."

That elicited a laugh from the woman: a deep, rich belly laugh that made even Azrael smile. "It's mostly little girls that say that. Folks are more likely to recognize they've got more to learn when they're grown."

Azrael leaned back in her seat, trying not to look irritated. "I know I've still got a lot to learn. That doesn't have anything to do with not being little." There was always more to learn. Swing dancing. Molecular gastronomy. Steeking - really, how could people cut up something they'd spend hours knitting? She should come up with something to do with all this spare time. One could only read so much.

"Well, I'm glad you understand that, baby," the woman replied, with an amused smile. "Hey, you're going to a good place. Nice for thinking."

Azrael peered at the driver. "You've been there? I haven't seen you."

"Maybe," the driver replied with a shrug. "I get around. Sometimes I lose track."

The ride continued in silence for several minutes, the driver casting the occasional glance at Azrael in the mirror. "Sorry it's taking so long. Traffic."

Azrael nodded. "I think I'll get out and walk. It's only just up the road a bit, and it'll be faster this way."  
The woman hummed agreeably as she pulled the car over. "Just be careful, now. And baby?" Azrael paused, the door open, and looked back at the driver. "You have a good night, now."

"Thanks. You, too." Azrael nodded as she paid the woman. She left an excellent tip.

Pulling her backpack over one shoulder, she strode down the sidewalk, not at all surprised when Josh fell in step with her. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

Josh offered her a cup from Beelzebean, saying, "Well, it would have been strange if I'd just appeared in the cab. People tend to notice stuff like that."

Azrael took the cup with a murmur of thanks, then made a face when she tasted the contents. "What  _is_  this?"

"Spearmint, lemongrass, and chamomile, mostly," Josh replied.

"Herbal tea?" Azrael replied, annoyed. "Come on, Josh."

Josh stuck his hands in his pockets as he walked. "Well, you've had kind of a stressful evening," he began. "I thought the tea might help. Chamomile, you know. It's relaxing."

Azrael took another sip. Now that she wasn't expecting coffee, it wasn't so bad. "Didn't take you long to bring up the evening," she observed, casting a sidelong look at her brother.

"Yes, well..." Josh shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. "Thought you might want to talk about it."

Azrael shook her head. "There's nothing to talk about."

Josh sighed. "Rae, you know this isn't what Dad wants."

Azrael came to a stop at the foot of the steps. "He said to come back to LA," she replied, lifting her cup in a flourish as if to say,  _And here I am._

"You know that's not what he meant." When Azrael didn't respond, Josh pushed, "You'd rather be at Lucifer's place, right? You'd both be happier with you there."

With an exasperated huff, Azrael replied, "Yes, well, life isn't about being happy - at least, mine isn't. You should know that by now, little brother." She sat on the bottom step, letting the backpack thump next to her.

Josh couldn't help but smile at the appellation, though his smile held a trace of sadness for Azrael's words. He blinked up at the building behind them: St. Brennan's. "You're staying here?"

"What, having a  _knew ye not that I must be in my Father's house_  kind of moment? No, I'm not staying here." Looking up at her brother, Azrael added, "I still can't believe Mary let you get away with that line."

"It took some fast talking," Josh admitted, settling to a seat next to Azrael. "So if you're not staying here...?"

Azrael pulled out her phone. "I've got the WiFi password." When Josh didn't look enlightened, she added, "For the hotel reservation. You shouldn't use an unsecured network if you're using your credit card on the internet, Josh. Hey, speaking of, are you going to be around later? I'll need someone who looks like an adult to check me in."

Josh nodded, though not without a small frown. "I probably shouldn't, but I guess it's okay... wait, what do you mean  _looks like_  an adult?"

That actually sparked a small smile from Azrael, though she didn't reply.

"Rae, come on," Josh urged. "Think about what you're doing."

Azrael kept her head bent over her phone. "I did think about it."

Josh persisted, "Some demon tells you to do something and you just do it?"

Azrael lifted her gaze from the phone and turned it upon her brother. "Just because she's a demon doesn't mean she's wrong," she said, with some heat. "She knows Luci better than any of us, and if she says what I'm doing is hurting him, I believe her."

Josh lifted his hands in a placating gesture. "None of us wants you to hurt Lucifer," he reassured. "But Dad did send you here for a reason."

"I know," Azrael replied, elongating the vowel in her irritation. 

Josh thought, but did not say, that she was acting particularly like an eleven year-old in that moment.

Azrael continued, "Did leaving the way I did mean that I won't be able to accomplish the task?" She looked as if she wasn't sure what answer she'd prefer.

Josh was silent for a moment, then shook his head. "You'll still be able to do it."

Azrael sighed very quietly, but nodded. Before she could say anything, a voice came from the church door. "Rae, is that you?"

Azrael turned, then got to her feet, nodding. "Father Joe, hi," she greeted.

The priest came down the steps to meet her. "It's good to see you. Did you come for Youth Group? You're a little late, but I'm sure there's still plenty of pizza." He looked at Josh, then, his expression puzzled and a little concerned.

Azrael, noting the concern, glanced at her brother. Sure, his hair was in need of cutting by some standards, but he wasn't looking particularly disreputable.

Josh got to his feet as well; Azrael, standing near Father Joe, saw the nimbus around his head made by the nearby streetlight and frowned at her brother. Overkill. Azrael replied to the priest, "I didn't realize that Youth Group was tonight."

"Well, you're certainly welcome to come," Father Joe replied absently, his attention on Josh. "I'm sorry, have we met? You look..."

Josh shifted position, and the halo vanished. "I don't think so, not as such. I'm Rae's brother Josh."

"Father Joe Callahan." Father Joe offered a hand and, after a moment, Josh shook it. The priest frowned a little, though the expression was thoughtful, rather than negative. "I'm sure I know you from somewhere."

"I think he might just have one of those faces," Azrael observed, giving Josh a significant look.  
Josh nodded. "I should get going," he said, with a smile. "I'll catch you later, Rae. Think about what I said, okay?"

Azrael regarded her brother for a moment. "I'll give you a call."

Josh lifted a hand in farewell and headed off down the street. The crowds thickened behind him, and then he was gone.

Father Joe peered after Josh, that puzzled frown still furrowing his brow. His gaze shifting to Azrael, he offered an apologetic smile. "One of those faces," he agreed vaguely. "Do you have a minute to chat before you go join the others?"

Azrael did not bother to mention that she did not intend to go to Youth Group, but she did nod to the priest. "Of course."

Father Joe led the way into the church and then down a hallway to his office. He took a seat, gesturing for Azrael to sit as well. She did, settling her backpack at her feet and carefully not looking at the painting on the wall before her, one that actually bore a rather significant resemblance to Josh. Was it watching her? So many of those Josh-paintings seemed to follow her with their eyes. It was a little unnerving.

Father Joe took note of the backpack, which was full nearly to bursting. "Is everything all right?" His gaze sharpening, he added, "Are you bleeding?"

Azrael lifted a hand to her throat, shaking her head. "Cut myself shaving," she quipped, her expression blandly pleasant. "It's fine."

The priest didn't look entirely reassured, but didn't pursue the issue. "Well, I'm glad to see you. We missed you at Mass, and I hope we'll see you again on Sunday." Azrael nodded, and Father Joe continued, "What happened last Wednesday? The choir was expecting your help."

Azrael dropped her gaze briefly, then looked back up, with a faintly apologetic smile. "I should have let someone know that I wasn't going to be able to make it."

"Yes," Father Joe agreed, frowning. "The choir wasn't able to accomplish much without an accompanist. And we were worried about you."

"I'm sorry," Azrael said quietly. "I didn't mean to worry anyone. I spent some time with my brother Josh," she added, with a nod toward the church's entrance. "And then my father, too."

Nodding thoughtfully, Father Joe said, "Family is important, of course. Is your father going to bring you home soon?" Seeing Azrael's startled look, he added, "Ella explained something of your situation."

Azrael briefly entertained the thought of the look on Father Joe's face if she explained her actual situation, and shook her head. Setting aside the thought, she explained, "It's all still kind of up in the air." She even managed a straight face with that line.

"Well, I'm sure your brother Lucifer is enjoying your company while you're here," Father Joe encouraged.

Azrael would have preferred another chat with Maze to the priest's ignorant pleasantry. At least the demon's knives were quick. Refocusing on the conversation, she heard Father Joe add, "... so Jack and I went to see your brother at Lux."

"Oh, dear." The words escaped before Azrael could stop them. "I hope he wasn't too..."

Father Joe's smile was understanding, though it held enough discomfort that Azrael could guess how the conversation had gone. "It wasn't as bad as it could have been."

Azrael sighed very quietly. "I'm so sorry. Luci has kind of an attitude about, well, people of faith."

"That must make staying with him kind of interesting," Father Joe said, with a smile.

Azrael nodded rather wistfully. "Yes," she agreed. "Lucifer is many things, and interesting is definitely one of them."

Father Joe smiled. "Well, he's welcome here any time, if he'd like to give it another try."

Sensing that the conversation was wrapping up, Azrael asked, "Father Joe, could I borrow the piano in the choir room?"

"You're not going to Youth Group?" When Azrael shook her head, Father Joe nodded, though not without a concerned frown. "Of course. Just leave it the way you found it."

Azrael nodded, hefting her backpack and leaving with a murmur of farewell.

Father Joe, still frowning, reached for his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter should be coming sooner than this one. :)


	19. The Unbalanced Equation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The recipient of Father Joe's phone call catches Azrael in an unguarded moment, receives some unexpected information, and makes an offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The strong bond of friendship is not always a balanced equation; friendship is not always about giving and taking in equal shares. Instead, friendship is grounded in a feeling that you know exactly who will be there for you when you need something, no matter what or when.  
> \- Simon Sinek

Azrael slipped into the choir room, pulling the door nearly shut behind her. The piano wasn't as nice as Lucifer's - few were - but it would do in a pinch. She glanced at a pile of sheet music top of the piano, then took a closer look as the top sheet caught her eye. The song began,  _I have yielded myself to thy service._

Azrael sighed, casting a jaded eye skyward. "All those times I begged for a sign and now you send one? Seriously?" Seating herself at the piano, she added under her breath, "At least I've got your attention."

Azrael warmed up with some scales. She had finally gotten used to these smaller hands and could play most of what she could in her usual form. Starting with the Bach piece she favored, she then shifted to an older melody and proceeded to try to lose herself in the music.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been playing when she realized it wasn't helping. She missed Lucifer.  _Stupid,_  she chided herself.  _It hasn't even been that long._  But the knowledge that her brother wouldn't be wherever she ended up settled like a hard knot in her throat.

It was anticipation of loss, and she realized that she'd felt this way before, millenia ago, when she'd learned that Samael would be exiled to Hell. She'd stayed away then, unable to watch as he was cast out. She should have gone, should have spoken for him, should have been there so that he would have seen one face mourning his absence. She'd apologized later, when she'd gone to see him in Hell, and he'd waved a dismissive hand, but she'd seen the hurt there, buried deep.

She did not want to see that look again.

Azrael rested her arm on the music rack and settled her forehead on her arm, breathing deeply.

A quiet cough sounded from the door and Azrael jerked upright, turning to see the source of the noise. Really, one of the more annoying aspects of this body was the reduced hearing; people kept catching her unaware.

"Hi, Ella," she greeted, going for a casual tone and knowing that she wasn't quite hitting the right note. "How long were you there?"

"Couple minutes." Ella came fully into the room, carefully balancing two sodas and two plates of pizza. "Father Joe said you weren't going to go to Youth Group, so I brought you some pizza." She settled the plates on the table, then took a seat, smiling in invitation.

Azrael joined the woman, though she observed, "I didn't realize you were involved with the youth group."

"Well, I'm not," Ella admitted.

Azrael considered Ella's demeanor and asked, "Did Father Joe ask you to come talk to me?"

Ella grinned. "That's just a little too perceptive, chickie. He did. He's a little worried about you is all." Her expression sobered as she studied the girl. "You look like you're having a rough day. What's up?"

Azrael shook her head. "I'm good," she replied, summoning a smile. The expression felt strange on her face.

Ella smiled, though she obviously didn't believe Azrael. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it."

"Good," Azrael replied. She leaned back in her chair, asking, "How was your day?"

"Not bad," Ella said, smiling a little, perhaps recognizing the attempt at distraction. "Work was good." She studied Azrael, then asked, "So what happened to your neck?"

Azrael should have gotten Josh to heal it. It didn't hurt, but the location drew too much attention.  
Realizing that Ella was still watching her, Azrael replied, "Lucifer knows what happened. Tell Father Joe I'm all right, okay? It's not a big deal."

"That's great that Lucifer knows," Ella said gently, "But that's not what I asked. It looks like it was done with a blade - a sharp one." Seeing Azrael's brows lift, she added, "Forensic scientist, remember? But, look, Rae, I can't tell Father Joe you're all right if I'm not sure you are. If you're hurting yourself, we can get you some help. I'm sure Linda knows someone..."

It said something, Azrael mused, that the humans kept thinking she should be in therapy. Still, of all the people Father Joe could have called, Ella was the best choice. He'd probably picked her, Azrael realized, because of her affiliation with both the police and the church. "I didn't do this to myself," she said earnestly. "I mean, that would be dangerous, Ella." She almost smiled at Ella's relieved look.  
"Okay, so what happened?" Ella asked.

_A demon threatened to kill me because I am unintentionally messing with the Devil's head, and her hand slipped._  Almost, she said it. Almost, she said,  _Ask Lucifer,_  but with her luck Ella would, and Lucifer would tell her, and wouldn't that be an adventure? Almost, she said,  _It's really none of your business,_ but she knew that she wouldn't like the hurt look Ella would get if she said that. She settled on, "It's complicated," and then took a bite of pizza. It was lukewarm, but still tasty; she hadn't realized how hungry she was. This body still managed to surprise her with its needs. She made short work of the rest of the slice.

Ella smiled, possibly at Azrael's words, maybe at her appetite. "Conversations with you tend to involve that phrase," she observed. "I really can handle complicated, though."

Azrael shook her head. "Not like this." She flicked a glance at the plate in front of Ella; the tech caught the look and slid over the plate. Azrael murmured her thanks.

"Sometimes things seem complicated," Ella said, "but they aren't so bad when you talk them out with someone."

With another shake of her head, Azrael said, "Not this. I could actually use some advice about something else, though." When in doubt, try distraction.

Ella sat up attentively. "Of course!"

"My father wants me to do something, and I'm not sure it's a good idea." Azrael blinked, not entirely sure why those words had left her mouth. She took up the pizza Ella had put in front of her and started to eat, watching the tech.

Ella frowned thoughtfully. "What does he want you to do?" Seeing Azrael's brows lift, she asked, "What, surprised I didn't just tell you to do what your dad wants?"

Azrael pulled one of the sodas closer. "Kind of," she agreed, shoulders lifting in a small shrug. "That does tend to be the response." She popped the soda's top and took a sip, then added, "I'm not actually sure what he wants me to do."

Ella took the other soda, querying, "How can you do it if you don't know what  _it_  is?"

"That," Azrael said, "is an excellent question." She flicked a quick look skyward.  _See?_

Ella smiled a little, but asked, "Why do you think it might not be a good idea, then?"

Azrael sighed. "It might hurt someone, but it might not. Since I'm not sure what I'm doing, I'm not sure what the impact will be. The last thing he wanted me to do ended up being helpful in the long run, even though it didn't seem like it at first. But it also... I don't know. I think Lucifer is kind of ambivalent about it."

"Ooh, ambivalent, nice word." Ella shook her head. "I don't guess you could be more specific, could you, chickie? I mean, hurting someone is definitely not a good thing, but if you're not sure, and the other thing was helpful..." Azrael shook her head, though not without an apologetic look, and Ella mused, "Chloe said something about your dad the last time we all went out."

Azrael sat up a little straighter. "She... what? What did she say?"

"Just that he was a manipulative di... guy, and that she was glad you and Lucifer got to spend time together." Ella smiled. "And so am I. He's been happier with you here."

Azrael stared at her empty paper plate. "You're working with incomplete information," she said quietly.

The girl looked up in time to catch Ella's puzzled smile. "So enlighten me, chickie."

"Fiat lux," Azrael murmured. Was it a sign from her father? Was she supposed to tell Ella? Knowing that she was here to serve her father's purpose had her questioning everything. She could hear Josh in the back of her head reminding her that not everything was a sign, but he spoke with their father on the regular; he didn't need signs, because the old man just told him what he wanted done. She imagined their conversation in the Silver City: their father telling Josh to convince her to go back to Lucifer, Josh agreeing like always. It wasn't going to work, though. She'd made her decision.

Trixie's words echoed in her mind:  _"Don't you want to tell people, though?"_  Did she? If there was anyone she wanted to tell, it was Ella.

"I'm thinking about telling you something." Azrael look a deep, quivering breath, suddenly regretting that second slice of pizza. "There are a few people who already know, but you can't tell anyone else, okay?" she asked, her anxiety clear. "I mean, they probably wouldn't believe you, but you'd have to keep it to yourself."

Though she looked a little uncertain, Ella nodded. "Does your brother know?" she ventured, relaxing a bit when Azrael nodded. "Then my lips are sealed."

Azrael leaned back in her chair taking another deep breath. "Okay," she said. "I'm... not a little girl," she began. She struggled with what to say next, but Ella was already nodding.

"Now it's starting to make sense," she said, with an encouraging smile. "Lucifer said ages ago that you weren't happy with your body. Your outside doesn't match who you really are inside?"

Azrael peered at Ella in some puzzlement. "I... yes?"

"Hey, I'm so glad you felt comfortable telling me," Ella enthused. "My cousin Serena, she used to be my cousin Stephen. Some of my family kind of freaked out at first, but now it's like she's always been Serena. If you want to get in touch with her, I could -"

Azrael rubbed her forehead with the heel of one hand. "Wait, that's not..."

But Ella was the verbal equivalent of a bulldozer. "And how great that you haven't hit puberty yet. I mean, you haven't, right? That'll simplify things if you decide -"

"That's not what I was trying to tell you, Ella," Azrael interrupted gently. "I'm not a little girl because I'm older than I look. A lot older."

Now it was Ella's turn to look puzzled. "Well, how old are you, chickie?"

Azrael shook her head. "I've kind of lost track, but... well, I remember when the first humans set foot on Earth. It was Adam and Eve," she added. At least she wasn't entirely destroying Ella's worldview.

Ella's puzzlement deepened, and then she said, "Are you playing along with Lucifer's whole 'I am the Devil' thing? Like you're a... junior devil or something?"

Azrael took a deep breath. This was her last chance to back out. She could say that she was playing along, or she could reveal herself.

Ella was her friend, right? Or was she? Could they really be friends while Azrael was hiding a secret of this magnitude? Then there was the guilt that only Ella, of the women's Tribe, was being kept in the dark.

There were some reasons not to tell. Lucifer would probably be fine with it, but Maze hadn't exactly taken the last revelation well. Then there was her father. She had managed a small rebellion with no real consequences that she knew of - yet - but this was... somewhat larger.

She told herself that she didn't care. For once she wanted to do something not because her father demanded it, or because of her job, or to placate a sibling. She wanted to do it because  _she wanted_  it. She studied Ella, who was smiling.

"What, you  _are_  a junior devil?"

Azrael chuckled weakly, sounding fake even to herself. "That depends on which of my siblings you ask... but, no, I fall more on the angelic end of the spectrum."

"Right," Ella agreed, playing along. "Because the Devil is a fallen angel, and you're his sister. Of course! That makes perfect sense."

Shaking her head, Azrael said, "I'm serious, Ella." While Ella regarded her in increasing concern, Azrael sighed and got to her feet. She pulled off her jacket, stepped into the middle of the room, and unfurled her wings.

Thirteen years of Catholic school took over. Ella crossed herself mechanically, her hand seeking her abuelita's cross as she murmured, "HailMaryfullofgrace..."

"She was nice," Azrael observed over the rest of Ella's muttered prayer, extending her wings a little. She'd had to keep them tucked away, and it was a relief to be able to stretch them. "Put up with a lot. Josh was kind of a handful when he was little."

Ella stared. "Josh as in your brother that Father Joe met today? As in the actual Jesus? Here?"

Azrael nodded. "I think Father Joe saw some of Josh's divinity," she said thoughtfully. "People with true vocations sometimes do."

"How do people with true vocations see you?" Ella asked quietly, unusually subdued.

Azrael smiled faintly. "They tend not to see me at all, when I have my powers. Not unless I will it, or unless..."

"Azrael," Ella realized. "The Angel of Death."

Azrael looked away. She didn't want to see fear on Ella's face. Nodding, she said, "Not just now, but up until quite recently, yes." She could hear Ella's chair scrape against the floor and waited for the sound of footsteps, or the door closing. When it didn't come, she turned to see Ella staring at her, her eyes wide.

"So it's all real?" The tech's voice shook just a little.

Azrael tucked away her wings, and some of the shock left Ella's expression. "Define 'all.'"

Ella took a deep breath. "Well, God?"

Azrael nodded, with a faintly wry smile. "Definitely real, yes." Her smile softening at Ella's expression, she stepped closer, saying gently, "But you knew that, right?"

"Well, there's knowing, and there's  _knowing_." Frowning a little, Ella said, "Wait, so God is... your dad?" Azrael nodded. "The one that Chloe said was a manipulative..."

Azrael smiled a little. "Ella, I'm older than humanity. It really is okay to say 'dick' in front of me. You won't be teaching me anything I haven't already said in multiple languages."

"Okay," Ella said slowly, thinking through her words as she spoke. "But I'm more concerned about the 'manipulative' part of it. I mean, Chloe was pretty worked up."

Azrael pulled on her jacket sat down in a chair across the table, figuring that giving Ella a little space might not be a bad thing. "Well, he kind of is, but not for you guys - humanity, I mean. The whole free will thing." She knew that Chloe, if she were privy to the conversation, would rail at her to stop defending her father, but she knew she needed to go more gently with Ella. "And for my siblings and me, well... things just tend to work out the way he wants."

"And he's Lucifer's dad, too," Ella said, still speaking thoughtfully. She sat back in her chair, with a soft exhalation. "And Lucifer is..."

"Not a method actor, yeah," Azrael agreed, watching Ella carefully, and making a mental note to at least text Lucifer a warning. "Still the same guy you know, though, Ella."

Ella nodded slowly. "Yeah," she agreed distractedly.

Azrael let the silence lie for a moment, then asked, "You okay?"

Ella nodded. "So I'm friends with the Devil. Am I going to Hell?"

"No," Azrael replied promptly. "Though I would recommend that you not mention it at Confession. Father Joe couldn't handle it."

Ella managed a weak laugh. "Uh, no," she agreed, her smile fading as she thought about the situation.

"Seriously, though," Azrael said. "It's not like you even need to confess it. Without getting into my opinion on the whole concept of absolution, because this is definitely not the time and place, friendship is hardly a sin. Think about it: if anybody needs a friend, it's Lucifer. Of all of us, he's had it the worst." Ella didn't reply, her expression thoughtful, and Azrael asked, "Do you think he's evil?"

Looking shocked, Ella replied, "Of course not. I mean, he's helped us bring in so many criminals, and he's really insightful and funny and..." Her voice trailed off.

"But he's the Devil," Azrael prompted.

Immediately, Ella said, "That doesn't matter." Azrael looked at her, brows lifting, and Ella repeated slowly, "It... it doesn't matter." Smiling suddenly, she considered Azrael and then asked, "So that's why Lucifer thought it was so funny that you were in the Christmas play? Omygosh," she realized. "You - an actual angel - were the angel in the play. No wonder everybody loved it so much; people keep saying it was the best year ever, even with so many kids out with the flu. Hey, why didn't you use  _your_  wings? They're way prettier than those fake ones.'

"Thanks," Azrael said, her lips curving just a bit. "I didn't want to attract too much attention. And, yes, Lucifer has kind of a warped sense of humor."

Laughing, Ella replied, "Of course he does! I mean, look who he is." She shook her head, then, adding, "This is really... really weird, Rae. But it's cool."

"So you're okay with all this?" Azrael asked, reaching past Ella to grab her soda.

Ella thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah," she decided. "I mean, I'm still taking it all in, and I've got about a million questions, but yeah."

"Well," Azrael replied amiably, "I'd be happy to answer what I can."

It took the tech a few moments to come up with her first question. "Which religion is the right one?" she asked finally.

Azrael considered her answer. "Now, Dad and I never discussed this - our conversations never really get very deep, when we talk - but I can tell you that we've got people of all faiths in the Silver City. I wouldn't worry too much about that one. Just do what works for you."

"The Silver City?" Ella echoed.

Azrael gestured skyward. "Upstairs. Heaven. Though it's not like you can just fly up and get there," she added. "Otherwise Dad would have stopped the space program before it started."

"Wait, can you fly?" Ella asked. At Azrael's nod, she beamed. "Okay, I have  _got_  to see that."

"You and Trixie should form a club," Azrael observed, shaking her head.

Ella's brows lifted sharply. "Trixie knows? Chloe's little girl?"

Azrael nodded, though not without an embarrassed grimace. "After the play, I was in the bathroom, sulking a little over the fake wings, and I had my actual wings out, and they came in. And yet," she realized, shaking her head, "I didn't think to lock the door before I showed you."

"If it's any consolation, I don't think that door locks," Ella offered. "Was that why you were upset, after the play?"

Azrael nodded. "That was part of the reason, yes."

Ella laughed, a quiet, amused sound. "So you really weren't kidding when you said it was complicated."

"No. No, I was not."

Azrael lost track of how long they spoke and the questions she answered, but it was long enough that she started to think longingly of more pizza, or some sushi, or... her stomach rumbled loudly, interrupting Ella's question about miracles.

"Wow, sorry," Ella said. "We've been doing this for a while. I should let you get back to Lux."

Unthinking, Azrael replied, "I'm not living there any more."

"Lucifer kicked you out?" Ella replied, shocked. "That's awful. You'd think he, of all people -"

"No, no, it was my choice," Azrael corrected quickly. "Well, mostly. We're still not sure what Dad sent me to do, and living with Lucifer while I'm potentially messing with his life just seems wrong."

Ella didn't look entirely convinced, but asked, "Where are you staying?"

With a vague gesture toward the front of the church, Azrael replied, "There's a hotel down the street. Josh is going to help me check in, unless he's changed his mind about that. I'll stay there until I can find somewhere more permanent."

Ella shook her head, leaning forward earnestly in her seat. "I don't think you should that, chickie." She faltered a little, realizing that she was using an avian term of endearment for the once and future Angel of Death, but then continued steadfastly, "Come stay with me. My place is small - definitely not what you're used to - but wouldn't it be better to stay with someone who cares about you, instead of on your own?"

Azrael took a long drink of her soda; her voice was still husky when she spoke. "I really appreciate the offer, Ella, but -"

"Don't say no," Ella urged. "Come on, it'll be fun! Think of all the awful movies we can watch. Ha, though now I get some of the things you don't understand. Didn't watch a lot of TV - no kidding!"

Looking tempted, Azrael said, "In the interest of full disclosure, my father isn't exactly happy with me for leaving Lucifer's place. He wouldn't take it out on you - that's not his style - but you should know the situation."

Ella smiled. " _For I was hungry, and you gave me food to eat. I was thirsty, and you gave me drink. I was a stranger, and you took me in._  I'm two for three," she added, gesturing to the detritus of the meal. Azrael hesitated, and Ella urged, a note of affectionate teasing in her voice despite her earnestness, "Come on, I know you're not a stranger, but you have to admit that the situation is pretty strange."

Azrael said quietly, her voice thoughtful, " _Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me._ "

"Okay, I appreciate your knowledge of the Bible - another thing that suddenly makes a lot of sense," Ella added, with a grin, "But is that a yes?"

Azrael nodded, a slow smile crossing her face. "Yes," she agreed. "Thank you, Ella. This really means a lot to me. But I get the couch." Seeing Ella's incipient protest, she added, "It makes sense. I'm smaller. And, seriously, you won't go to Hell if I sleep on the couch."

That startled a laugh out of the woman. "In that case, okay." Ella got to her feet, gathering the trash and tucking it into the garbage can.

Azrael sent a quick text to Lucifer:  _Showed Ella my wings; she's okay. Please let Mazikeen know. Staying at Ella's place for now._

After what seemed like an eternity but was really just a few moments, her phone dinged with Lucifer's reply.  _Graduating to larger rebellions, I see. I'll tell Maze, but you owe me._  After a moment, another text came through.  _Be careful. You're playing with fire._

Azrael grimaced at the first text, but sent a heart emoji in response to the second, getting to her feet and grabbing her backpack. "Ready when are."

Ella leaned in and wrapped her arms around Azrael, startling a small squeak out of the girl. "Thanks for telling me, Rae. It really means a lot."

* * *

Azrael told herself that it was charming that Ella hadn't taken down her Christmas decorations yet. Really, it was.

Drifting off, curled in a cozy nest on Ella's couch, she firmly told herself that the Weeping Angel on top of Ella's tree was not watching her, and that she was far too sleepy to, say, get up and throw a dishcloth over the Angel.

Of course, if she did that, she wouldn't be able to see it and that would be worse. Her eyes sank closed despite her efforts, and she fell asleep.

* * *

Azrael struggled awake and gasped, sitting up and trying to shake off the dream of sharp stone teeth and grasping stone fingers pulling at her shoulders. Still half-asleep, she realized that an actual arm supported her shoulders, and the hand untangling the blanket that trapped her arms was flesh, not stone.

"If this is dreaming, I think I'll give it a pass. Hold still; you've got yourself all tangled."

Trying to slow her galloping heart, Azrael agreed, "It's highly overrated." Realizing who was sitting on the couch with her, she stiffened. "You know, this thing where you show up when I'm sleeping is really inappropriate."

Michael, seeing her reaction, got up and moved to the chair. "I don't think you're in a place to lecture me, Azrael."

Disentangling herself from the blanket and raking a hand through her hair, Azrael asked, "Why are you here?"

"You know why." Michael started to put his feet up on the coffee table, then aborted the motion at the look of reproof from his sister.

"Is it to take me back?" Michael shook his head; Azrael stretched, then wrapped the blanket around herself. "Honestly, at this point it could be a couple different things." Her yawn was real, though her lack of concern was completely feigned.

Michael smirked. "Nice try. I know you're quaking in your boots over there."

Azrael considered one bare foot - Trixie had painted her toenails a festive, glittery pink, even getting most of the polish on the nails - and then looked up at her brother. "Is he angry with me?" She spoke evenly; while there was some boot-quaking going on, there was no need to confirm it. Not I front of Michael.

"What do you think?" Michael asked. "No proof of celestial beings, that's one of the big ones."

Irritated and trying to deny the nerves that suddenly seized her guts, Azrael demanded, her voice low in deference to Ella, "Did he even send you, or did you just show up on your own? It didn't work out well for you the last time you improvised, remember? He told me that he chastised you." Now, with her father not physically in the room, Azrael didn't hide her pleasure in her brother's misfortune.

"At least he bothered to do it in person," Michael retorted, getting to his feet.

Michael didn't loom as well as Amenadiel, Azrael observed as she looked up at her brother, but he knew the most tender parts of her psyche, and aimed his barbs accordingly. She drew herself up to respond in kind, but a voice interrupted her, startlingly loud.

"qaStaH nuq jay'!"

Realizing that Ella had somehow come unobserved into the room - unobserved by her, at least - had gotten that big, curved weapon off the wall, and was now aiming it at Michael, Azrael all but fell off the couch in her haste to put herself between Ella and her brother, hands lifted in a warding gesture. "Wait, no, it's okay!" Looking warily over for Michael's response, she was startled to see that his expression was one of bemusement and... admiration?

"What did she say?" Michael queried.

Looking baffled, Azrael replied, "I have no idea. I don't speak... um."

"Klingon," Ella supplied, still brandishing her weapon. "I asked what the... what's going on."

Stepping back a pace so that she could see both Ella and Michael, hands still lifted, Azrael explained, "This is my brother Michael, who really needs to learn about knocking instead of just showing up in someone's apartment. He's being kind of annoying, but he isn't an immediate threat."

Michael snorted at Azrael's words, but Ella's eyes widened a little as she realized just who she was threatening. She lowered the bat'leth and ducked briefly behind the couch, reappearing sans Klingon weapon. "Hi," she said, shoving her glasses back into place and then offering an awkward little wave. "I'm Ella. Nice to meet you. Big fan."

"Did you really come out here to defend my little sister from some unknown intruder?" Michael queried.

"Well, yeah," Ella replied, as if there could be no other answer to the question. "I mean, I know she's not really a little kid, but she's in a little kid's body. And she's my friend - I've got her back."

Azrael smiled fondly up at Ella, then turned to Michael, repeating a little smugly, "She's got my back."

"So I see," Michael replied. "It seems you've actually managed to engender some loyalty during your time here."

Azrael pursed her lips. "Well, gee, when you put it like that, you make it sound so dirty," she quipped.

Michael sighed in exasperation. "Really, Lucifer has been a bad influence on you, little sister." Turning back to Ella, he gestured toward the couch. "May I see the weapon?"

Ella beamed and ducked behind the couch, and then came around to offer it to Michael.

The angel hefted the bat'leth, but then studied it in puzzlement. "The edges aren't sharp, but it doesn't seem like it would work as a bludgeoning weapon."

Azrael sank back down onto the couch, looking between Ella and Michael. "What is happening?" she whispered, not sure if she should be amused or disturbed.

"Oh, no, it's just a replica," Ella explained. "They don't really make sharpened ones, and that probably wouldn't be a good idea for me anyway."

Azrael asked Michael, looking amused, "You want one of those, don't you?"

Michael pointedly ignored his sister, instead returning the bat'leth with a murmur of thanks. Ella tucked it behind the couch once more, then came around to sit next to Azrael as Michael returned to his chair.

Azrael gestured vaguely to her neck. "Michael, do you mind taking care of this for me?"

"I shouldn't," Michael began sternly, but seeing Ella's curious expression, he nodded and moved closer, resting a hand lightly on Azrael's neck.

Azrael saw a soft glow radiating from Michael's hand and looked up at him in amused disbelief. "You're seriously making a light shine? You show-off. There's not usually a light," she added to Ella.

"You are such a little -" Michael's gaze slid to Ella and he finished, "-sister." He removed his hand from Azrael's neck, revealed no trace of the wound.

"That is so cool," Ella enthused, leaning closer to look at Azrael's neck. She raised a hand to Michael, adding, "Nice work, dude!"

Michael shot Azrael a perplexed look, and she mimed a high-five; Michael lightly smacked Ella's hand, looking gratified when she grinned in response.

"This is fun and all," Azrael observed, amused, "But did you have a point to your visit, Michael?"

Azrael's brother focused on her again. "I did, but -" His gaze slid back to Ella, who was watching with far too bright a smile for that hour of the morning.

Biting back a yawn, Azrael suggested, "But you don't want to get all snarky in front of Ella?"

Michael glanced at Ella, then told Azrael, "I can do this another time. It's late; I didn't realize."

Ella said, "I can just..." she gestured back toward her room.

Azrael shook her head. "Not necessary. I don't really feel like a lecture just now." Turning back to Michael, she said, "Can just take it as read that you disagree with me and that you spoke to me sternly about what you perceive as my shortcomings?"

Michael glanced at Ella once more, then got to his feet. "I'll discuss this with you another time, Azrael."

Azrael sighed, anticipating the conversation to come, but Michael ignored her and continued, "It was meeting you, Ella."

"Same," Ella agreed, standing as well.

Michael started for the door, turned back to Azrael. "Nice jammies, by the way."

"Shut up," Azrael muttered, straightening her bright red shirt. "Wonder Woman is awesome. The movie is going to be amazing."

Ella shook her head, getting the bat'leth from behind the couch and returning it to its spot on the wall as Michael left; she chuckled as he closed the door behind him. "You know, seeing that actually made me feel better about all this. You guys are just like my brother Manny and me."

"Well, that makes me question your family dynamic," Azrael replied, amused, "I'm glad we could help. Did you realize who you were threatening?"

Ella shook her head, looking both proud and apprehensive. "Well, no. It could have been anyone. I just heard voices. Sorry I interrupted."

Azrael shook her head. "Please, don't be. I need to be more alert to deal with Michael. You should tell Luci the story, though, if you get a chance. He'll love it, especially the part where you threatened Michael."

Ella nodded, with a smile. "Good night, Rae."

"Good night, Ella."

Azrael settled back onto the couch, curling up with the blankets. Already drowsy, she addressed the ceiling. "What just happened, was that part of your plan? Because that was just weird."

She didn't receive an answer, nor did she expect one, but she woke refreshed the next morning despite her interrupted sleep, with vague memories of her dream of sunlight and the wind in her feathers.


End file.
